Empire Rising
by Thunderscream
Summary: Rated K for robotic violence. Five hundred years after the end of the Great War, a new Decepticon empire is growing in the remnants of Leige Maximo's former territory. Inspired by the HMW game on Seibertron characters used with permission.
1. Guard Duty

_Guard duty again. This is not what I signed up for_.

Mach Alert sighed audibly and leaned up against an arm. He was sitting inside a small, cubicle guard post just outside the gate of the Iacon Detention Facility, one of the largest prisons on Cybertron, the Leavenworth of Transformers. Criminals of every caliber were quartered here, mechanoid and organic alike, including some of the worst in recent history. It was built like a fortress, with guard towers, thick walls made from the toughest alloys, and some of the strongest force fields ever developed. But walls and shields alone were no guarantee against an escape attempt, so guards were required to keep an eye for any sign of trouble, both inside and out.

Mach Alert had served in the Autobot services for fewer than two stellar cycles now, and held high hopes that he'd attain some bit of glory exploring the galaxy or leading strikes against raiders. That was the best any new recruit could hope for these days; the Great War between Autobots and Decepticons had ended nearly four vorns ago. Despite his dreams of adventure, he had not gone on any great mission of exploration, nor been assigned to crew any cruiser. Instead, he had been assigned the most mundane details imaginable, a long list of assignments he'd rather avoid doing. And now he had been picked to sit in a box outside the gates of a prison complex. He knew it wasn't a punishment for some indiscreet deed; it was simply his turn. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

_What's the point of this?_ Mach Alert thought, looking out towards the roads beyond. _No one's tried to escape this place since it was built! And who'd be stupid enough to break _into_ a prison?_

He stood and stretched his stiff servos as far as the cramped confines would allow; a result of all the mega-cycles of immobility. He looked back into the prison yard, deserted, a far cry from the morning's activities. Even if any one did try to escape, what good would it do? The facility had been built to house Decepticon war criminals, so an organic prisoner had little chance of making a successful break. Besides, the worst of the Transformer criminals were little more than sparks housed in a stasis chamber; they had even less of a chance than the organics.

Mach Alert glanced at the security monitors, checking the status. Just as he suspected; nothing. The streets leading up to and past the prison were deserted, and no one really expected anyone to pass through, especially at this late hour. He yawned, trying to stave off boredom.

_This is ridiculous_, he thought. _They should be giving this job to those who don't care whether or not they see action, 'bots who have no ambition whatsoever. Better yet, give this job to the Maximals; they hardly ever do anything worthwhile anyway. All they ever do is go out, muck about the universe, and come back with these new 'organic' forms_.

He sat back down, leaned back, and began to think about the history lesson he had received. _No one's interested in a bunch of convicts. Who'd break them out? The Decepticons are scattered across the known galaxy, and the few that are left on Cybertron are either in prison or in retirement. The Predacons are too fractured to care one way or another. Besides, if they can't even reign in a few rogues like Cryotek or Magmatron, what makes anyone think they'd try anything here?_

He glanced at the holoscreens in front of him again. _Still nothing_. He checked his internal chronometer and groaned. _Two mega-cycles before I get off this slagging shift. Internal note; look into any openings on star cruisers once shift ends_.

Mach Alert sat up straight, glanced at the monitors, grumbling, "Join the armed forces, see the galaxy, meet new beings. Fraggin' load of…"

Something outside caught his optics. He leaned forward, looking out the window and into the sky, straining a bit to get a good look. Even from his awkward position, he could see a faint glow of light moving across the night sky against the backdrop of stars. At first, he thought it merely a meteor, but a closer look revealed that it was moving too slowly and kept a constant altitude. He tried to determine what it was through his scanners, but it was too high to get an accurate reading.

_Probably a starship or something_, Macheye thought. _Most likely heading for one of the spaceports in the area. Nothing to be concerned about._ He leaned back and settled back into his dull routine.

His boredom was soon be alleviated again. As he stretched out again, he noticed the force field at the gate flicker.

_That was odd,_ he thought, sitting up. It appeared that the electrical current to the field had been interrupted, albeit briefly. He watched for a moment, waiting to see if it would occur again. If so, he'd have to report it immediately. He waited a few cycles, but nothing happened.

He shrugged. "Probably just a glitch in the grid." He had heard that a new power station was coming online that evening, and there were bound to be bugs. Even though the prison had its own power supply, it was still sometimes affected by surges from other stations, if only briefly.

Suddenly, the lights all along the perimeter went out. Mach Alert didn't need them to see, but it was troubling nonetheless. He knew the systems had been checked a few solar-cycles ago, so the lights shouldn't have gone out. He became more alarmed when his security monitors flickered momentarily, then failed all together. He sat up straight, alert now, attempting to reboot his holoscreens, to no avail.

_What's going on here?_ He thought it wise to notify his superiors about this and activated his communicator. "This is Gate 4D to control. I appear to experiencing an electrical outage in my sector. Please respond."

There was no answer. Mach Alert tried a couple more times before he came to the conclusion that communications was out. No matter, he figured. Certainly Control knew of the problems already and was working on it. But someone was going through a lot of trouble for this to be a simple prank. Just to be safe, he pulled his photon pistol from its holster in his leg.

He was glad he did, because at that very moment the gate's force field shut itself off. He quickly moved from the guardhouse to a position in front of the now wide open gate, facing the cityscape beyond the grounds. He was well aware that, at this hour, the prisoners would be in lockdown, and were probably shutdown for the evening, so it was unlikely that an attack would come from the prison itself. He placed himself outside the gate, ensuring he wasn't fried by the force field should it come back.

He waited, thinking grimly, _Well, you wanted adventure._ But this wasn't what he had in mind. But everything seemed quiet, a little too quiet for his tastes. He glanced up at the guard towers above him, noticed they were dark, too. _Somebody is desperate to get in here, but why? Their processors must be on the fritz. Well, we'll soon teach them. They can't just shut everything down and expect someone not to notice_.

His audio receptors picked up a sound coming from his right, and he turned quickly towards it, scanners on full now, pistol pointed in the direction of the noise. He didn't see anything, but he knew he had heard something. He kept his sensors on alert for anything, scanning from left to right and back again, determined that nothing would slip by him.

The attack came from behind.

Mach Alert felt something hard strike him in his back and he fell to the ground with an electronic yelp, his pistol flying out of his hand. Before he could recover, he was hit again, and this time he knew he'd been kicked. He rolled away and tried to stand to face his opponent.

He managed to get a glimpse of his attacker, a blur of a robotic form, but that's all he got before another blow landed on him, this time in his face. He fell backwards, stunned, and spitting mech fluid. Then he heard the sound of metal scrapping against metal and looked up.

He got a clear view of his attacker now. It was another Transformer, though he couldn't identify what faction through his cracked optics. He could see that it held a sleek, almost feminine form and was holding a long, thin, curved sword, similar to a type of weapon humans called a "_katana_". He couldn't see the face, nor tell what she transformed into.

But he could tell that he was in trouble, and he glanced around, looking for his pistol. He looked back up in time to see her slashing her sword at him. He managed to dodge the blow by rolling away and scrambled to his feet, seeing his pistol a few meters away. He ran to it, ducked down, and picked it up.

Before he could turn to face his attacker, his sensors registered a new problem. He felt something punch him in the back and then his front. He looked down to see the tip of a blade sticking out from his chest plate.

He'd been stabbed in the back and run through.

His opponent withdrew her sword from his exostructure and stood back. Mach Alert fell to his knees and could feel his systems locking up. She had hit something critical.

_Warning: critical malfunction. Systems shut down in three-point-six nano-clicks_.

"Computer…" Mach Alert slurred, but he couldn't get the rest of his command out. The last thing he saw before everything went dark was the ground rushing up to meet him.


	2. The Eisen Dragoons

Irikar stood over the broken body of the Autobot guard she had just dispatched, sword in her hand, watching for any movement. She scanned him, unsure as to his status – she had faced too many opponents who "played possum" to risk letting her guard down. But her scans revealed that this Autobot wasn't going anywhere, so she activated her communicator.

"Lone Wolf to Dragon's Swarm. Targets have been neutralized. You may proceed at your discretion."

She didn't receive a response, but wasn't expecting one. Her commander had ordered a general communications blackout, limiting all non-essential transmissions. She had sent the message he'd been expecting, and now the next move was his. Meanwhile, she knew she was exposed here and if a sentry from another part of the prison saw her, she'd be in trouble. She sheathed her sword in one of the wings on her back and slipped back into the shadows, waiting for reinforcements.

Irikar was just one part of a small team of Decepticons that had been sent to break into the Iacon Detention Facility and retrieve – something. She had no idea what the real objective was; only her immediate commander, and perhaps one other, really knew. She didn't care that much, either; the quicker the mission went, they sooner they could leave. Breaking into a prison wasn't _exactly_ her idea of an ideal assignment.

She was about average size for a Transformer, about twenty-seven meters tall, as slim and trim as the JAS 39 Gripen she turned into. Like her vehicle mode, the color of her armor was a combination of medium and light ghost gray for better camouflage in shadowy environments. She looked out onto her surroundings from a crimson colored, boomerang shaped visor over a faceplate, all of which made her look like a ninja. And before joining this little gang, she had spent her time as an assassin under Venomous Prime and his Disciples, even carrying out assignments on Cybertron itself. She was sure that there was no one on the planet who knew her by sight, but that didn't ease her concerns in the least.

After a few moments, she heard the sound of approaching engines and turned quickly, immediately taking a defensive stance. She saw three aircraft – a modified Have Blue jet, MiG-29, and RAH-66 – flying towards her, with a mechanical tyrannosaur bringing up the rear. She eased her stance slightly, seeing that her reaction had been premature.

It was the rest of her team, the Eisen Dragoons.

The Have Blue jet was in the lead by several decimeters and transformed as it approached, revealing a tall, thirty-three meter, angularly built Decepticon, primarily black in color with red, silver, and gray trim. The face was an unreadable mask, literally; the optic was little more than a "V" shaped visor and the rest of the face was a gold mouth plate, all surrounded by a black helmet with silver vents on either side.

Irikar recognized the Decepticon as Archanubis, a former bounty hunter who had recently attained the rank of Second Lieutenant in the Destronger forces. She had met him long before her "induction", even fought him on one occasion, and knew him to be a skilled – and intelligent – Decepticon. He also tended to be aloof and a bit of a loner, rare socializing with anyone unless absolutely necessary. That he had been named the team's commander was astonishing in itself, but someone had seen something beyond the stoic recluse everyone else took him to be.

Irikar stepped from the darkness and noted from the corner of her optic the entourage transforming behind him. "Welcome to the Iacon Detention Facility, gentleman. We hope your stay will be a short one."

"Thank you, Irikar," Archanubis said, apparently ignoring her sarcasm. He glanced over at the guard, still sprawled on the ground. "Very good work." He was silent a moment before adding, "And it seems Sting Claw has kept himself occupied, as well. And well within schedule."

"He always was efficient," the tyrannosaur stated. He was known as Northclaw, a large; powerfully build Decepticon who was often accused of being rather emotionless, though his teammates knew better. Like Archanubis, he had an angular build, though it was less severe than his commander's, not to mention burlier. He was about a meter shorter than Irikar, had white armor over a black frame, and red caps over his joints. He wore a triangular visor over crimson-red optics and his mouth was lined with sharp, triangular teeth. There was a large pack on his back, upon which were mounted a pair of mechanical arms with a rotor at the end, each fitted with three long, wicked looked blades, all facing earthward.

"Which works to our advantage," Archanubis stated. He indicated the fallen guard. "Is he the last?"

"In this area," Irikar stated. "I've taken out all the other guards within a two dekameter radius, including the ones in the towers above us. Unless more have arrived since then, you should have no trouble getting in."

The MiG 'con smiled slightly, the rectangular crimson visor twinkling slightly. "Proficient as well as lovely," he said.

Irikar nodded to him, glad she didn't have a mouth, or else she would have been fighting back a smile. "Thank you, Wingshadow."

Wingshadow bowed slightly, still smiling. He was colored with his own combination of shades of gray, which would have been unremarkable in itself, save for the fact that the grays were arranged in a pattern similar to a tiger's stripes. Much of the pattern was visible on his robot mode, mostly on his wings and cockpit. He was about a micrometer taller than Northclaw, and like Archanubis, was also ranked a second lieutenant, though his commission came after his commander's. By rank alone, Wingshadow could claim to be the team's second, but even he seemed to defer to Northclaw in that regard.

The last Decepticon moved forward, the helicopter, staring down at the Autobot guard. His designation was Novacula, a tall, lanky, angular 'con known for volunteering for any mission that had even the slightest hint of a challenge. He was colored a drab brown-gray and had a sleek head that possessed no hint of humanoid influence. He was often called "Mad Novacula" for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was a tendency to jump into situations where Primus himself would fear to tread.

"Has he been terminated?" he inquired.

Irikar shook her head. "Stasis lock."

Novacula seemed to grin. "We can fix that."

"Knock it off," Northclaw snapped. To Archanubis he said, "Sir, may I remind you that speed is of the essence. The prison's control center has no doubt become aware of Sting Claw's work and has dispatched a party to investigate. He is also undoubtedly waiting inside for us to reinforce him."

"Agreed," Archanubis said. "You remember the next part of your assignment, Irikar?"

She nodded. "Secure an escape ship. The nearest spaceport is about twenty kilometers to the south. I should be able to secure a ship by the time you finish here."

"Why not just use one of the prison's shuttles?" Novacula inquired.

"They don't have the speed or range we'll need to escape Cybertronian space," Archanubis said. "The spaceport will have what we require." He turned to Irikar again. "Coordinate with Stratosphera, but maintain communications silence with the main group. I don't need to tell you that stealth and surprise is paramount."

"And do be careful," Wingshadow added.

Irikar nodded. "I always am. See you boys later – maybe." She transformed into her Gripen mode and flew off into the distance, keeping low so the glow from her thruster didn't give away her team's presence. Wingshadow watched her up until she was out of sight.

"You sure this was a good idea? Sending her off like this?"

Archanubis glanced at him. "She can take care of herself. Besides, Stratosphera will be keeping an eye on her."

"_She's_ not whom I'm worried about," Wingshadow said. "Her skills might be needed here if we run into trouble."

"I've been in this prison a few times, delivering bounties," Archanubis said. "The walls are all painted bright white and there are no nooks in which she can duck into; she'd stand out like cannon in an open field. She's better off; besides, we can handle any guards we encounter."

"Especially if cannon mouth over there is as powerful as he says he is," Novacula said, gesturing towards Northclaw.

"We shall see, won't we?" Northclaw said blandly.

"Okay, quit the chatter," Archanubis said. He activated his communicator and said, "Dragon's Swarm to Eye-in-the-Sky; any sign of movement towards us?"

There was silence on the other side before a feminine voice answered him. "No hostiles detected heading for you vicinity, Archanubis, at least not in the surrounding area. I couldn't tell you if there's anything waiting inside; the whole place is constructed from some kind of composite that's blocking all my sensors."

"Well, they did construct this place to be virtually escape proof," Archanubis said.

"I'll give you that," Stratosphera said. "But the composite's also blocking communication transmissions. I can't get raise Sting Claw and the same thing will happen once your team enters."

"We knew the risks before we accepted this mission," Archanubis said.

"You mean before _you_ accepted this mission."

He ignored her comment. "Thank you, Stratosphera. Keep an eye on Irikar while we're out of contact."

"Will do. Eye-in-the-Sky out."

Archanubis nodded once and turned to the rest of the group. "Move out, Dragoons. Northclaw, you and I will take point. Wingshadow, you and Novacula will cover our rear."

"Why doesn't he cover our rear?" Novacula asked, again gesturing towards Northclaw.

"Because any heavy resistance we face will come from in front of us," Archanubis said. "And Northclaw's armor is more durable than any of ours."

"Think of it this way," Northclaw said. "If we have to turn around and flee, I'll be bringing up the rear."

Novacula hadn't thought of that. "Good point."

"If we're done gossiping like a bunch of old femme-bots," Archanubis said, "let's move. Sting Claw's still within the lion's den, waiting for us to rescue him."

The others nodded silently, took their assigned positions as and walked carefully through the gate.


	3. Within the Lion's Den

The Eisen Dragoons managed to enter the prison without any resistance whatsoever, though they remained cautious. Wingshadow managed to find an emergency access ladder with which they could descend to their intended level. Their comrade's deeds had put the lifts out of service, and while they could have easily reactivated one, doing so risked alerting the authorities.

They had been climbing for several cycles when Northclaw, still out in front, said, "We're here; Level 7."

"Disembodied sparks and digitized exostructures," Wingshadow quipped in a singsong tone.

Novacula chuckled slightly, saying, "It's about time. These are tight quarters; I can't even hover in here without bumping into something."

"That's part of the point," Archanubis said. "Not all of the mechanoids held here are stored as disembodied sparks and data files." He glanced at the emergency lights on either side of the ladder. Under normal conditions, they'd be lit, filling the access way with a dim glow. But the tunnel was still as dark as the inside of a cave. "Power's still out; which means we can't open the hatch."

"Not a problem," Northclaw said, sliding down onto a short platform below. One of the tri-bladed rotors on his back extended out and over his shoulder and punched through the hatch's three segments. The blades began to spread out, acting like levers as they slowly parted the segments. Once the hatch had opened enough for him to fit his hands into, Northclaw grabbed a hold and shoved the hatch open the rest of the way.

"Now I see why you put him up front," Wingshadow stated. Archanubis didn't answer, but followed Northclaw into the corridor beyond. They entered into a four-way junction, each hall extending in a cardinal direction. Archanubis studied the numbers on the doors closest to them as the pair waited for Wingshadow and Novacula to join them.

"Handy little tools you got there," Wingshadow said.

"Well," Northclaw said, "when your beast mode's got arms as short as mine, you need something to give you that extra edge."

"Which way now, boss?" Novacula inquired.

Archanubis pointed down one corridor and said, "This way. Northclaw, take point. Wingshadow, follow. Novacula, you and I will keep an eye on our rear. Careful everyone; we're on dangerous ground now."

There were no arguments, no clever quips, not even so much as a "Yes, sir." Everyone took their positions and began moving down the corridor, moving as quickly and as quietly as possible. Every corner and open door could hide a party of guards, so they proceeded around each one with caution. As they advanced, Archanubis kept half an optic on the doors they passed, looking for one room in particular.

_211, 213, 215, 219… wait a cycle!_ "Unit, halt," he ordered quietly. The team froze and he moved back down the way they had come. He saw cells 215 and 219, as well as an open room between them, right where holding cell 217 was supposed to be. He noticed a small bronze plaque by the door leaned in for a closer look, and saw a number engraved into the metal.

_Well, strip me down and call me a microwave. If it were a Predacon, it would have bit me._

"This is it," he told the others. "Holding Cell 217."

Northclaw looked at the open entryway without emotion. "So this is where Thunderscream wanted us to go." His optics narrowed slightly. "I don't like how that door's already open," he said, a slight hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Yeah," Wingshadow said nervously, leveling his arm-mounted laser rifle at the door. "It's like we're expected."

"Well, of course you're expected!" a voice exclaimed from within the cell. A mechanical scorpion crawled into view, peering out from the upper portion of the doorway. "What do you expect me to do, sit around twiddling my pincers waiting for you guys? I got better things to do with my time!"

Archanubis nodded to the scorpion, saying, "Hello to you too, Sting Claw."

"One would think he'd be grateful that we made it here at all," Northclaw stated.

Sting Claw dropped to the floor, transforming to robot mode as he did, landing on his feet. He was small, a little over twelve meters high, and primarily black and dark gray in color. The shovel-like pincers of his scorpion form also functioned as his robot hands and his tail held high and curved over his head. He had crimson optics and a black mouth plate on his face and he possessed a black colored visor on his head that could be flipped down to cover his eyes.

Straightening up to face his commander, Sting Claw said, "Well, if you guys hadn't taken your sweet time getting here, I wouldn't have been forced to find some outlet to relieve my boredom."

"Well," Novacula said, "we had to make sure we didn't run into any guards. I for one don't want to be a _permanent _resident here."

"Our mission relies on both stealth and speed," Archanubis said. "Any efforts you've made to speed our mission are greatly appreciated."

"Then you'll absolutely love this," Sting Claw said. "I've disabled all the security alarms and sensors in this block, and I've also found what we're looking for. I've taken the liberty of starting the decryption process. We should have free access to their mainframe shortly."

"Excellent work," Archanubis said, entering the holding cell, with Wingshadow and Sting Claw behind him. Novacula and Northclaw also entered, but stayed by the door, keeping watch, while the others approached a semi-circular computer console in the center of the room. The walls of the cell were covered with small, circular shaped hatches, about two and a half meters in diameter.

"How long will it take you to crack the encryptions?"

Sting Claw was already at the console checking on the progress. "We should have access to the stasis chambers right about… now."

He touched a control and five of the wall hatches opened, allowing a meter long cylinder to extend from each holding chamber. In the center of each canister was a bright, ebbing ball of light – the spark of a Transformer, held in stasis.

"Very nice," Archanubis said. "These are the individuals that I informed you about?"

"The very ones," Sting Claw replied. "I double checked before I started the decryption program."

Wingshadow, standing near one of the spark canisters, looked at the device and asked, "Whom exactly are we springing?"

"These sparks belong to five of the most fabled Decepticons that were ever constructed," Archanubis said, moving towards one of the canisters. "They were the most powerful and loyal of Galvatron's soldiers; the slightest mention of their name inspired fear even in the most ornery of Dinobots. They also refused to surrender after the signing of the Pax Cybertronia and the end of the Great War. They were eventually captured, but not before they left a wake of destruction. The Autobots stripped their sparks from their superstructures and placed them here, intent on burying them forever."

"What happened to their exostructures?"

"Destroyed," Sting Claw responded. "However, the schematics are still stored in the central archives."

"And you were the one who bottled them up," Wingshadow said to Archanubis.

"They were 'bottled up' before I was even a glimmer in my creator's optics. If you want someone to blame for their capture, blame Devcon."

"Okay, but that still doesn't answer who 'they' are."

Archanubis ignored him and turned to face the door. "Novacula, think you can transform in here?"

Novacula glanced around the confines of the cell. "I can try, but no guarantees. This is a fairly tight space."

"Do it," Archanubis said. "And try to point your tail towards us so we don't have to walk around you."

Moving closer to the center of the room, Novacula said, "Here goes nothing." He transformed, ending up so that his nose was positioned towards the door. It was a bit of a tight fit, but there was still a little room to move around. Bay doors slide open on either side of his fuselage, revealing internal compartments.

Archanubis turned and commanded, "Sting Claw; see if you can't download the data on their schematics. Wingshadow, help me load these sparks containers." He turned and reached for one of the canisters, handling it as if it were a priceless glass vase. "You're sure you disabled all the alarms?"

"Positive," Sting Claw said, watching the pair work. "With any luck, we'll be long gone before they realize we were even here."

"One can hope," Wingshadow said loading the last spark. The compartment doors slid shut and Novacula transformed back into robot mode. Archanubis walked up to the console.

"How long before you have those schematics?"

"Another few cycles," Sting Claw said. "I'm having a little trouble trying to break the encryptions. Whoever programmed this mainframe tied that data up into more knots than a Hylion eel snake."

"Speed is of the essence," Archanubis said. "The longer any of our tasks take, the more likely it is that we'll be…"

"FREEZE!"

Sting Claw looked up while Archanubis, Wingshadow, and Novacula spun around. Standing just outside the door were three Autobot guards, weapons drawn and trained on the Decepticons.

"Discovered," Archanubis finished grimly.

One of the Autobots entered the cell, shouting commands. "Stay where you are! Everyone keep their extremities where I can see them! No funny business!" His companions followed close behind him.

_They must have passed by and noticed the cell door open_, Archanubis thought. He didn't move as the Autobots advanced slowly on their positions. A glance told him no one else was, either.

"Contact control," the lead guard ordered his companion to his right. "Tell him we found four Decepticons in cell 217, level 7."

The other guard nodded, but never got the chance to comply. The Autobots had made a critical mistake; Northclaw was still by the door, and none of the guards had noticed him when they entered. He waited just long enough for the last Autobot to enter the room, and then struck as fast as a bolt of lightning, taking full advantage of the blunder. One of his bladed rotors shot out over his shoulder, skewering the closest guard, the one who had been ordered contact headquarters. The lead Autobot spun around towards the sound of his subordinate's screams, only to be shot in the face by the particle cannon hidden in the center of Northclaw's other rotor. The guard went down hard.

The third Autobot leveled his weapon at Northclaw, and in doing so made yet another mistake. With no one covering him, Wingshadow raised his laser rifle and shot the guard down. Meanwhile, Northclaw shoved his first victim off his blades and the guard falling to the ground, groaning. Novacula took care of him with a shot from his Gatling cannon.

"You think they heard any of that?" he inquired.

The alarm klaxon went off at that very moment and the room was filled with a pulsating glow of ruby light.

"I would say so," Northclaw said wryly.

"That or someone forgot to turn off the weapons sensors," Wingshadow said, glaring at Sting Claw.

Before the team had a chance to degenerate into a wholesale argument, Archanubis barked, "Whatever tipped them off, it all means the same thing: we've over stayed our welcome. Let's move out, team!"

"I still need to download the schematics!" Sting Claw protested. "Just give me a breem…"

"We don't have a _nano-click_!" Archanubis snapped. "Those guards will be on us any cycle. We need to get out of here _now_!"

Sting Claw considered lodging another protest, but he saw Northclaw transform to his tyrannosaur mode and exit the cell, with Novacula close on his heals. Sting Claw glanced at the console a moment before destroying it with the blasters in his pincers. He then leapt over the smoldering ruins and joined the others outside.

"Now what?" Novacula asked as the team congregated outside the cell. "We're several meters below the surface and the exit. And I am _not_ going back up that access tube!"

"And what do you suggest we do?" Archanubis inquired. "Use the lifts? We do that and they'll know where we are in a millicycle. Not only that, but they'll be able to alter our destination so we end up where _they _want us. So unless some one has a better idea…"

As if on cue, a pair of gun barrels swiveled forward on Sting Claw's tail and he aimed them at the ceiling. Firing a steady beam from each barrel, he blasted a hole above the team, just wide enough for their largest member to squeeze through. The others jumped back, away from the falling debris, and stared at their comrade in stunned disbelief.

Noticing the looks, he said, "I looked up the schematics on the prison before we left Hylion and studied them on the way here. The floors and ceilings aren't as reinforced at the walls and doors. They'll never expect anyone to come up _through_ the floor." With that, he transformed into a long bodied Cybertronian jet and flew through his fissure.

Glancing at his commander, Wingshadow stated, "You asked if anyone had a better idea."

Archanubis ignored him. "Novacula, help me lift Northclaw up; he can't fly while he's in beast mode."

But Northclaw was already moving and had anchored his bladed rotors in the ceiling, testing how well they – and the ceiling – held his weight. "I'm good," he told the others and using both the arms and the thrusters on his back and legs, lifted himself up through the hole.

"You gotta admit," Novacula said, "he's versatile."

"I hope those skinny arms hold," Wingshadow said. "I don't want him crashing down on top of me when _I'm_ trying to climb through."

Archanubis glanced down the corridor quickly, saying, "Northclaw'll be fine. _We_ won't if the Autobots catch us. Wingshadow, get up there! Novacula, you'll be next. Let's _move_!"


	4. Breakout

Bubbatron awoke from his slumber to the sounds of the klaxon, the shrill sound assaulting his audio sensors. He growled low, lumbered to his feet, and stretched his hydraulics. Staring at the door, he grumbled softly; someone was going to pay for disturbing his nap.

Bubbatron was a large Autobot, though one could argue that he was wider than he was tall. He was built like a water tower tank, and possessed about as much mobility. He had a reputation of being the Autobot equivalent of a frat boy; drinking radium tipped mech-fluid, popping energon goodies into his mouth, and generally just goofing off. He was a familiar figure at the local bars – he had been thrown out and banned from most of them. He had a history of insubordination and indolence, a trait that had gotten him kicked out of one of Cybertron's most illustrious academies. His penchant for being instigating drunken brawls had earned him a sentence in the armed forces, but even here, he couldn't keep out of trouble. Initially been assigned to the Ineptibots, a team of Autobots often assigned the most mediocre of duties, his attitude and personal habits had gotten him thrown out. He had been assigned to other teams, but had managed to alienate everyone, and out of exasperation, his superiors had assigned him to the Iacon Detention Facility as a guard.

Groaning, Bubbatron reached for his vibro-ax, which was leaning nearby against a wall. It was his shift, but he figured he had better things to do than wander the halls aimlessly, keeping an eye on prisoners who were unlikely to escape anyway. He had found a maintenance closet, ducked inside, sat down on the floor and promptly shutdown. No one was likely to come looking for him – or so he believed – so he wasn't concerned about being caught.

The door slid open and he lumbered out, shielding his optics against the hard, ebbing glow of the flashing red lights. The klaxon's shrill screaming assaulted his audio receptors, but there was nothing he could do about that; whoever was in Central Control would be responsible for dealing with that. He noticed a contingent of guards racing by him down a connecting corridor, apparently moving towards whatever disturbance had set off the alarm.

_Guess I should go investigate_, Bubbatron thought. _Might be something important. Even if it isn't in my assigned sector._ He yawned, still shaking off his weariness.

He heard a slight rumble coming from somewhere in the vicinity and felt the floor shiver a bit, as if the area was experiencing a minor earthquake. The vibration stopped after a second, so Bubbatron merely shrugged and ignored it. It was probably just a Sentinel robot moving into position. And if the Sentinels had been called out, then whatever the problem was would be solved momentarily. They wouldn't need him.

It was at that precise moment the floor underneath his feet tore itself apart. Despite his mass, the force of the explosion still sent him a ways down the corridor.

Bubbatron lay on the floor a moment before getting up, lifting himself slowly from a small pile of debris that had fallen around him. Recovering from his brief daze, he turned towards where he had been tossed, trying to peer through the haze of smoke that permeated the corridor. He thought he saw something fly up and land in front of him, but until his vision cleared, he couldn't be sure.

The fire suppression system finally kicked in and the smoke cleared nearly instantaneously. When it did, he saw another robot standing at the edge of the hole in the floor. The 'bot was noticeably shorter than himself and possessed a construct that he wasn't familiar with. And then he noticed an insignia; it was a Decepticon!

Bubbatron smirked; one lone Decepticon, trying to break out of the prison? Especially one this short? This would be an easy capture, especially since the 'con's back was turned. He picked up his ax, which had landed nearby, and advanced, slowly on his quarry.  
"Well, well," Bubbatron sneered. The 'con turned, saw him for the first time, but didn't seem overly concerned about his presence. "What do we have here? An Insecticon, perhaps? You're a little short to be a true Decepticon."

The 'con smirked, the black visor over his optics gleaming. "Big enough to handle a glorified boiler such as yourself." With that, he pointed his tail guns and pincer-mounted cannons at the Autobot and opened fire. And at this range, combined with his target's girth, the 'con couldn't miss.

Bubbatron was hit repeatedly with ammo that was surprisingly powerful despite the 'con's stature. He tried deflecting the missiles and lasers with his ax, but the artillery was coming much faster than he could block it. He was grateful that his creator had built him with lots of heavy armor; else he'd be taking significant damage. But he couldn't advance while he was under attack and the hail of firepower prevented him from seeing three long blades punch up from below, then spread out until they were flat against the floor.

As suddenly as he had started, the Decepticon stopped firing. Bubbatron quickly checked his status; he had suffered some minor damage, mostly around his joints, but he could still function within acceptable limits. That's all he would need to handle this little 'con.

"What's the matter, Insecticon?" he boasted, unable to resist. "Run out of ammo already?"

"I got plenty of ammo," the Decepticon replied. Pointing towards the hole, he continued, "But I think I'll let _him_ handle you."

Bubbatron looked towards the fissure and his optics widened. A mechanized tyrannosaur was climbing out of the hole, pulling itself through the twisted metal like some dragon out of a nightmare. The thing looked about as friendly as a Dinobot on an energon trip. He saw the Decepticon insignia emblazoned high on the dinocon's left thigh, but unlike its smaller companion, the beast bore the mark of Jhiaxus' followers – and was twice the size.

"Two against one, huh?" Bubbatron said. "Not good odds – for you!" He brandished his ax.

"Who said anything about two on one?" the tyrannosaur snarled. Before the Autobot could react, thrusters on the back and legs of the 'con fired up and he came straight at him at a speed that defied its size and appearance. There was no time to react before the tyrannosaur rammed into Bubbatron head on – literally. He stumbled back a little from the force of the blow, but it didn't knock him off his feet. He recovered his balance and saw the 'con standing nearby, just staring at him. Figuring it was dazed from the impact, Bubbatron lashed out, swinging his ax. But the 'con was far from being stunned and it ducked the blow, lashing out with one of the two sets of blades on its back. The strike hit home, but was deflected harmlessly by the Autobot's tough armor.

"Hah!" Babbatron mocked. "A little too tough for you, huh?"

The tyrannosaur didn't reply. Instead, it reared both tri-blade sets back for another strike. Bubbatron resisted the urge to laugh, but choked it down when he saw a pinkish-violet energy field appear over each blade. Even worse, they seemed to come together to a point and the whole assembly started spinning like two long, vicious drills. And then the 'con lashed out again.

Again the blades hit their mark, but instead of skipping off his armor as they had before, they punched through as if Bubbatron had been constructed of aluminum foil. He shrieked in surprise and pain, and realized the Decepticon hadn't finished with him. The drills were still spinning and had begun tearing through him. It was slow work, the armor thicker than what had probably been expected, but the drills slowly tore gaping wounds in the Autobot, sending sparks and metal bits everywhere.

Fighting through the pain, sparks and wisps of smoke, Bubbatron fought back, slamming his vibro-ax into the Decepticon with all his might. He struck the saurian head several times, but the dinocon's armor was exceptionally strong and the only effect the blows were having on it were small scratches and a few sparks. But his attacker soon tired of the constant blows and withdrew the drills, but not before doing serious damage to Bubbatron's superstructure.

Bubbatron staggered back, but still did not fall. He glanced over his torn and sparking superstructure, checking to see how bad the damage was. He didn't get a chance to look for long; hearing a sound, he looked up in time to see the 'con finishing its transformation to robot mode. The saurian advanced quickly and proceeded to pummel the Autobot mercilessly, causing him to drop his ax. He tried to fight back, but the flurry of punches and kicks he received were coming too fast; it was all he could do to try and block them. To make matters worse, the 'con threw in its drills again, ripping off plates of armor whenever they connected. The 'con grabbed him, amazingly lifted him up, and then threw him towards the hole. He landed a few decimeters from the edge, the impact shaking the whole floor.

Lying on his back, Bubbratron tried to shake off his stupor before the 'con could strike again, and then noticed that he wasn't alone. Three more Decepticons had climbed out of the hole in the floor and were watching the fight. He struggled to get up; afraid they would gang up on him now that it was five on one. But the 'cons seemed unwilling to interfere as their companion marched up to him, lashing out with its energy-charged drills. He dodged the best he could, but they nicked him; it was nearly impossible for the 'con to miss at this range. The Decepticon kicked him as well, slowly edging him closer to the edge of the gaping hole. Just as the Autobot teetered on the edge, the Decepticon picked him up again. He was perplexed; why hadn't the Decepticon just kicked him into the hole? He received his answer…

When the Decepticon piledrived him through the fissure. Bubbatron fell, falling to the next level and through yet another hole.

* * *

The Eisen Dragoons gathered around the hole, listening as the Autobot Northclaw had just pummeled and tossed crashed down through their escape route. They could hear him smashing through the broken pipes and severed cables they had struggled through just moments before.

"Nice work, Northclaw," Sting Claw said. "He'll probably be feeling that for a few solar cycles."

"Judging by that Autobot's girth," Wingshadow said, peering down, "he'll probably be falling through the floors for the next few mega-cycles."

"As much I appreciate your gushing admiration," Northclaw said as he transformed back to his tyrannosaur form, "might I suggest we get going? That Autobot's likely to have friends."

As if on cue, two more Autobots rounded the corner, saw the Dragoons, and shouted, "Hold it right there!"

Novacula responded by opening fire, forcing the guards to take cover.

"Point well taken," Archanubis said, whipping out his laser blasters. "Northclaw, Sting Claw, take the lead! Wingshadow, follow them; Novacula and I will cover our rear."

Northclaw was on the move almost as soon as Archanubis completed the order. Sting Claw transformed into his scorpion mode and hurried away as fast as his tracks could take him. Wingshadow was right behind them, while Novacula and Archanubis kept the growing Autobot forces pinned down as they backed away slowly.

"Hey, Northclaw," Wingshadow inquired, "why'd you transform back into your dino mode? You prefer it over your robotic form?"

"I move faster this way. I also have a better sense of balance in this mode when using my thrusters. Not to mention I have a certain little feature that can't used while I'm in battle mode. We may need it now." At that moment, Archanubis and Novacula caught up with the rest of the group. "Where are the guards?"

"We've managed to lose them for the time being," Novacula said. "We took a page from Sting Claw's book and collapsed the corridor behind us. That should hold that set for a while."

"Don't get cocky," Archanubis warned. "There are other guards, and a myriad of ways they can cut us off. We still need to get to a level where we can find an exit out of here."

"Don't need to worry about that," Sting Claw reported. "In fact, we're heading directly for the exact location from which you came in."

"Good to know," Wingshadow said. "At least we'll be familiar with the scenery."

"And the Autobots and Maximals will have anticipated that," Archanubis warned. "It's too late to turn back now, but if Sting Claw's worm is still tying up the works, this will be where the guards will be heading. We may have a firefight on our hands."

As if to confirm his concerns, a group of four Autobots and two Maximals appeared in their front, weapons drawn. The leader of the group shouted, "Surrender or we'll open fire!"

The Dragoons stopped, but instead of surrendering as commanded, they raised their own guns. They didn't get off a shot. The guards opened fire and the team had nowhere to hide. Smoke quickly filled the corridor.

After a few cycles, the lead guard ordered, "Cease firing!" The command was obeyed and they tried to peer through a haze of smoke where the Dragoons had been standing. "That should do it, team. No one could have withstood that. Expect a surrender here, if they're even online."

But as the smoke cleared, they could see a faint, purple-pink glow in the heart of the haze. They soon realized that the glow was actually a force field of some kind, and as the last wisps cleared, they realized that the field was being generated by one of the Decepticons!

Just as the guards had started firing, Northclaw had erected a force field just large enough for the others to get behind. The Autobot artillery had pounded the shield with no effect, leaving the Dragoons unharmed. Before the guards had a chance to recover from their shock, Northclaw brought his shield down and the Dragoons opened fire with everything they had. The guards attempted to fight back, but they had nowhere to take cover, either, and unlike the Dragoons, they had no alternative means to protect themselves. In a matter of nano-clicks, all the guards had been cut down.

With the battle over, Archanubis barked, "Damage report?"

The reports came in one by one. Wingshadow had several holes in his wing, Novacula was nursing a wound in his shoulder, and Sting Claw's tail had been nicked. Even Archanubis had suffered damage to his own wings. Only Northclaw seemed unblemished, aside from a few blast marks on his armored superstructure. But no one had incurred any serious damage.

Satisfied, Archanubis ordered, "Good, let's move."

The team advanced towards the exit again, but only got a few meters before they ran into yet another obstacle. It wasn't a team of guards this time, but a closed blast hatch. For the team, this was a more disturbing setback than running into an army of guards.

"This can't be good," Wingshadow moaned softly.

Novacula made a small, electronic grunt. "Feh, it's just another challenge for us to overcome."

Archanubis ignored them. "Sting Claw, what can you do?"

"Well, it's apparent they've reactivated some of their security protocols. Fortunately, the internal defenses seem to still be down."

"And the door?"

"Well, let's see," Sting Claw, walking up to the door. "These bulkhead hatches are magna-sealed, meaning you can't simply blast it open. However, if you give me a few cycles, I could probably hotwire – _urk!_"

Northclaw grabbed Sting Claw's tail with his teeth and tossed him over his back. The smaller 'con landed on his feet, straightened up, and demanded, "What in the Pit was that for?"

The dinocon didn't answer; in fact, his attention was elsewhere. He planted his feet and a pair of long braces on the back of each foot swung down until they were flat against the floor. Panels on his tail and neck opened, as did his jaws, and a long barrel extended from the back of his throat. Energy danced along his teeth, crackling and popping ominously, as particles were drawn into the huge vents on his back and along his tail, coalescing into a bright, ebbing ball of light at the end of the gun barrel.

"Everyone back up!" Archanubis ordered, realizing what was happening. "Sting Claw, be ready to move in if this doesn't work!"

* * *

From the moment the alarm klaxon had gone off, Shield Prime had been on the move. When he heard the report that a small team of Decepticons had managed to penetrate as far as Level 7, he had headed there immediately, well aware of what was on that level. Since the lifts were still out of service he had been forced to use the maintenance access ladders to respond. He had gone down as far as Level 4 when a new report came in: the Decepticons were back on Level 1A.

Since being assigned to the prison, Shield Prime had never fallen into the complacency that others had fallen into. The view held by most, including the citadel's Maximal warden, was that the facility was escape proof. No one would even dare an attempt; the security system was state of the art and any would-be escapee would be recaptured in an instant. The opinion held was that the place was a fortress.

It amazed him how short a memory Autobots and Maximals alike possessed. The same had probably been thought of the Omicron Colony. Now this so-called fortress was under attack. Prime only hoped it didn't result in another disaster.

New reports were coming in on the Decepticon incursion; it seemed the band was heading back through the "dead zone", control's term for the sector where the security measures had been disabled. After climbing back up, he had realized he was close to where they would pass through. He transformed and drove off as fast as he could to intercept them, hoping there were more guards nearby to reinforce him.

Driving through the corridors, he soon came upon a contingent of ten or so guards all stationed around a sealed blast hatch. Shield Prime came to a screeching halt and transformed to battle mode. Several guards turned their heads towards the sound.

"Shield Prime!" one guard, a femme bot, exclaimed. He recognized her as Pipe Dream, another guard from another sector. "I'm surprised to see you here. This isn't your sector."

"I'm no further out of place than you are," he said. "What's the situation?"

Pipe Dream didn't hesitate. "Headquarters has managed to regain control of the emergency bulkheads and are closing as many as they can to entrap the intruders. We have communications and some power back, but internal sensors and defenses are still down. We have no idea where the intruders are at present. We can only hope the few hatches we've been able to close can stop them from reaching their objective."

"Which is apparently escape at this point," Prime said. "Do we have any idea who these intruders are, besides Decepticons?"

"No idea," one of the other guards said. "We do have this consolation. According to the reports, there are only five of them. Should be easy enough to handle."

"Let's hope so," Prime stated. Indicating the hatch, he said, "Can we be sure that this will stop them if they come this way?"

"I don't see why not," Pipe-Dream replied. "That door's made out of solid neutronium that's half a meter thick and magnetically sealed. Their best hope would be to try to access the controls to open the door, and if they try that and succeed, we'll be here waiting."

Shield Prime nodded solemnly, saying, "And they can't just blast their way through?"

Another guard laughed. "You worry too much, Shield. Like she said, that door's more secure than the energon vaults at Cybertropolis. It'd take an army of Decepticons and Predacons to blow that hatch down, with more fire power any of them can generate."

"Then what's that?" another guard inquired. Shield Prime and Pipe Dream looked up and saw a tiny spot of red on their side of the hatch. The spot grew quickly, changed to white nearly as fast and had soon encompassed the entire face of the door. Prime could hear the metal straining against whatever force it was trying to withstand.

"What in the name of Primus…" Pipe-Dream uttered. No one answered her.

Something – or someone – was trying to blast the door down… and was succeeding. In about fifteen nano-clicks, the whole structure would fail and likely keep going through anything in its path. Shield Prime felt his frame slump.

"Oh, slag."

* * *

Northclaw's charged particle beam punched through the hatch within nano-clicks, filling the entire corridor with smoke, steam and debris. The other Dragoons pressed up against the wall, attempting to shield themselves from the bits of shrapnel that flew in every direction. Archanubis peered through his optics, trying to see through the thick smoke.

"Infrared," he commanded and immediately his view of the world changed. He could see the heat signatures of his team. Northclaw was the only one standing in the middle of the hall, and he could see the jets of heat being vented from the ducts along the dinocon's entire superstructure. "Everyone online?"

"Just fine," Wingshadow said. "I'm switching over to infrared tracking; it's darker than the Pit in here."

"Everyone do the same," Archanubis ordered. "If any guards survived, they'll be waiting for us. The smoke will give us some cover, but I want everyone battle ready anyway."

"Let us hope that none are in any condition to fight," Northclaw said. "This weapon of mine isn't exactly capable of rapid fire."

"I'm sure we all have something that will assist us in that regard, my friend," Archanubis said. "Let's move out, Dragoons; but go slow. It's likely to be a mess in there. The infrared may help us, but that doesn't guarantee that we won't run into something. "

The team complied silently, lining up into their previous positions and treading slowly through the destroyed hatchway. Almost immediately, they saw the bodies of more Autobots and Maximals strewn across the floor, their heat readings extremely low.

"They're all in stasis lock," Novacula reported. "My sensors are registering that no one took a direct hit, yet they all sustained severe damage."

"The walls, too," Sting Claw stated. "I'm reading exposed infrastructure all around us. It's a miracle the floor's still intact, if just barely."

"Now that's-a spicy meatball!" Wingshadow quipped in an accented tone.

"And I've got more tricks up my armor," Northclaw said flatly.

"We may need them," Archanubis said. "As Sting Claw stated, the Autobots and Maximals are cleaning up his mess, which means we're running out of time. Once we're clear of the debris, we make like Starscream and get the Pit out of here."

_

* * *

We just can't catch a break, Sting Claw thought. The Dragoons had managed through the debris field, which turned out to be a lot bigger than what they had expected. Once through, they had started running, trying to get to the exit before the Autobots and Maximals guards could catch up with them again. But that was not to be, and they found themselves being pursued from behind by a small, but growing, contingent._

Northclaw was out in front, in his saurian form, speeding along as fast at a little over thirty kilometers an hour, using the thrusters on his back and legs to aid him. Sting Claw was right behind him, in scorpion mode, trying to keep up. Wingshadow followed him, and was himself trailed by Archanubis and Novacula, who were busying trying to run and fire at their pursuers at the same time.

Suddenly, a trio of Autobot guards appeared in front of them, weapons aimed, one of them shouting, "Stop or we'll shoot!"

Northclaw either didn't hear them or merely ignored them, because he didn't stop. Instead, he rammed them, knocking them aside as easily as if they were bowling pins.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Sting Claw asked.

"With armor as tough as mine, not really."

"And now you see why we keep _him_ up front," Wingshadow shot at Novacula. The other 'con didn't answer; he was otherwise preoccupied.

It wasn't long after that encounter that the team finally reached the entrance they had come in. But now they had another problem; the hatch was closing, this one much larger and slightly thicker than the one they had encountered before. Behind them, they could hear the guards shouting, "Close the blast hatch! Close the blast hatch!" Judging by the distance they still had to go and the narrowing gap, they wouldn't be able to duck through before it closed completely. It was a fact that apparently didn't faze one member of the team.

Northclaw shut his thrusters off and skidded to a complete stop. The braces on his feet came down again, his jaw opened, and the cannon extended. But this time the blades on his back swung around and were aimed at the hatch. Energy began to collect at the end of the barrels within the blade constructs and the mouth and the team heard a slight whine as the charge began to build.

"Cover him!" Archanubis ordered, turning and firing down the corridor. The others joined him in holding the Autobots back.

After a minute, a stream of pinkish-purple energy shot from each barrel and struck the still moving hatch with such force that the whole sector shook from the impact. As before, the hatch caved completely under the power, leaving the Eisen Dragoons' a wide open escape route. The hall filled with steam, all of it from Northclaw's vents, providing cover for the team to escape under. They didn't wait for the order.

As the team entered the prison yard, the flyers transformed to their flight modes and immediately took to the sky. Below them, they could see the carnage wrought by the particle beams. Autobots and Maximals alike were strewn about like a child's collection of toys. A few unfortunates had been caught in the direct blast, and among the causalities was a Sentinel robot, its legs blown clean off.

The gate had been reactivated, but the fliers weren't concerned; they merely flew over the wall. The gate wasn't an obstacle for the Dragoons' sole ground unit, either. His beams had had blown a nice, neat hole in the adjacent wall, just large enough for him to fit, and he plowed right through.

Gaining as much altitude as he dared, Archanubis activated his communicator and said, "Dragon Swarm to Eye in the Sky, report!"

"Nice to hear from you, Dragon Swarm," came the reply. "I was starting to get a little worried."

"Thanks for the concern, Stratosphera, but I think we need a little information at the moment," Archanubis said. "We've managed to trip the alarms here and need to make a break for it. Any word from Irikar?"

"She's waiting for you at the spaceport. Got a nice, fast ship all ready for you guys."

"Head for the spaceport ASAP, but keep us informed; I doubt that the Autobots and Maximals will simply give up the moment we make our break for it."

"I'll stay airborne until the last possible cycle. And you're right about the security forces; aside from the Sharkticon nest behind you, several units have been called to your location. They're still about a mega-cycle away, but that'll change real quick."

Archanubis said, "Understood, Dragon Swarm out." He addressed the others as he ordered, "Everyone spread out. If we can keep them guessing as to our intentions, they won't be able to concentrate their forces."

"Nah," Sting Claw said. "They'll just be able to pick us off one by one."

"It's a risk we'll have to take. See you at the spaceport!"


	5. Escape

Northclaw revved his thrusters and was speeding away from the detention center before Archanubis was finished issuing his orders. He picked the most direct route to the spaceport, knowing the security forces were expecting them to use that path, but aware that he simply didn't possess the agility of the fliers. The open space around the prison quickly gave way to series of low buildings and narrow streets; the suburbs of Iacon. The prison was actually located outside the ancient domed city in a comparatively sparsely populated section of Cybertron. The idea was to keep escaped prisoners from roaming the streets of the city and threatening its populace. It had made sense when it was originally constructed, considering most of the inmates at the time of construction had been Decepticon war criminals.

Northclaw cut his speed to a hundred ten kilometers an hour as he entered the suburb. He was capable of much faster – his top speed was three hundred forty kilometers – but it came at the cost of his maneuverability. With a total mass close to a hundred thirty tones, he couldn't exactly turn – or stop – on a dime. He wanted to have at least a little stopping distance even if his only obstacle was a building in the wrong place. He knew he could rely on Stratosphera to provide him with advanced warning, but still, it didn't hurt to be a little cautious.

"Hey, Northclaw!" a voice shouted from above. He glanced up to see Novacula hovering above him. "Mind if I tag along?"

"If you don't mind being held up by someone who is as slow as Trypticon. What are you doing here? I thought Archanubis ordered us to split up."

"He did, but I saw Wingshadow and Sting Claw pair up as we were leaving. Since I can't keep up with either of them, or Archanubis for that matter, I figured I'd cover your skid-plates."

Northclaw nodded in appreciation. He knew there were those who might have argued that he didn't _need_ anyone covering him, but he knew not all of his opponents would be land bound, so he welcomed the air support.

The pair raced down the street, on the look out for anyone or anything that might hold them up. Novacula was apparently also appraising their surroundings, because he emitted a disgusted electronic grunt. "Things _have _changed around here."

Northclaw glanced to towards one of the buildings they passed. He hadn't been constructed on Cybertron, hadn't even been to the planet until now, but he had heard the stories. He had heard of the great city planet, a world where machines ruled, listened to legends of the great dome of Iacon and the towering spires of Agorahex. He had heard of some kind of change taking place over the planet and knew there were those back on Destron who dismissed the stories as mere gossip. But the planet he had seen from the transport that brought the Dragoons here was not the great metal planet he had been told about since he was a protoform. Instead, what he saw was a large, green ball hovering in space, which, on closer inspection once the team was planetside, turned out to be assortments of cybernetic plants.

Novacula was grumbling to himself, about what, Northclaw couldn't hear, nor was he really paying attention. He was sure, though, that his companion was not pleased what he saw, and was probably regaling himself about what had been. From what Northclaw had read and heard while on Cybertron, his friend's opinion wasn't exactly in the minority, even among the Autobots and Maximals.

"At least they trimmed the brush," Novacula groused, glancing at the manicured lawns around them. He could also see where the vegetation had been pulled up completely and the dirt cleared, revealing the old metal infrastructure.

"Wouldn't matter," Northclaw said. "There's not enough dust here for my tastes."

"No wonder you're so at home on Destron."

"You spend stellar cycles on a war-torn world and see how it affects _your _views. In the meantime, you be careful with that cargo in your hold. The containers may keep those sparks online, but unless you weren't paying attention, those things aren't exactly _shatter_-proof."

"I can handle the sparks; you just handle any Sentinels we run into. Those things are probably crawling all over the place."

As if on cue, Stratosphera's voice broke over Northclaw's communicator. "Hey Northclaw, heads up! You're coming up on a roadblock real fast!"

Northclaw responded, "What kind of a roadblock?"

"About a dozen Autobots and twenty Maximals, all spread out across your path, plus a couple of Sentinels and one _really_ big guy."

"How big?" Novacula inquired, having patched in to listen.

"About half the size of the Sentinels. Still strikes an imposing figure, though. According to my scanners, he's pretty heavily armored, like Gestalt armored."

Northclaw thought for a moment. "How far are they?"

"A little under seven hectometers and closing," Stratosphera said. "At the speed you're going, you'll be right in the middle of 'em in a few cycles."

Northclaw checked his surroundings a moment. "Novacula, I'm going to cut back on my speed by half; I've got a plan to handle our 'roadblock'."

Doors snapped open on either side of Novacula's fuselage, each with a cluster of missiles attached to the underside. "I know; you take out the big guns while I pick off the small fry."

_Well at least he understand the general principle_, Northclaw thought. "Stratosphera, count off out distance every hectometer; I need to know exactly when to step on the brakes."

"Will do, Northclaw…"

* * *

His name was Bullet Time X and he stood at the ready along side a pair of Sentinel robots and a small gathering of Autobot and Maximal security personnel. They were acting as a robotic barrier, one of several set up in the wake of the Iacon Detention Facility break-in. The hope was that they would stop the Decepticons involved from reaching any of the nearby cities or spaceports.

Bullet Time was a massive Autobot; he towered over everyone here, with the exception of the Sentinels, who were twice his size. He was as heavily armed and armored as the giant robots, though, making him a perfect choice for helping his smaller comrades in stopping the raiders. And the team had just received a report that a pair of 'cons were coming straight at them.

"Stand ready everyone," Bullet Time told the others. "We outnumber the Decepticons better than seven to one. They won't be able to get past us!"

"We'll make sure it'll be costly for them if they try," a Maximal said with confidence. Bullet Time nodded, knowing he could rely on these troops for their support.

He heard the sound of a vehicle approaching behind them and turned to see a violet and gray-blue colored six-wheeled Cybertronian vehicle approaching. As soon as it was among them, it transformed into a powerfully built robot hovering several inches above the ground. Bullet Time instantly recognized the Transformer.

"Commander Strika," he said. "I'm surprised to see you here."

She nodded to him, acknowledging his greeting. Strika was one of Cybertron's most fabled military minds in recent history, had won nearly every campaign she had been involved in, and had attained the rank of General during her tenure. However, events nearly half a vorn ago had led the Maximal Council to demote her several ranks, so she had struggled to regain the status and respect she had lost. She knew there were those who still questioned her loyalties.

"The high command is sending command-level warriors out to every blockade," she explained. "They want to make sure the perpetrators are captured, preferably still functional."

"We'll do our best," Bullet Time said.

Strika nodded. "What's the situation?"

"We have two Decepticons approaching our position. Our sensor readings have shown them to be slowing down, which means they're aware of our position."

"Meaning they may have someone watching over them," Strika thought aloud. "Most likely in a position of considerable altitude." She looked up at him. "You said there were two Decepticons. Reports from Iacon say there were five involved. Where are the others?"

"Probably some distance back. Sensors haven't picked them up yet."

"Or they've split up to confuse us as to their true intentions," she said. "Have you identified the approaching Decepticon units?"

"The scanners don't recognize them," an Autobot reported. "Their spark signatures aren't on file."

_Not on file,_ Strika thought. _That means they're not from Cybertron or Charr. They could be from the rogue worlds; Neo Kaon, Destron, Nova Talón... Or they could be isolated renegades… can't be, this operation was too well planned to have been carried out by an independent group of rouges._

"Commander!" a Maximal shouted. "Here they come!"

Strika looked up and could see two shapes in the distance, still too far out to make out any clear details. She quickly switched to maximum magnification and saw the units they were up against: a tyrannosaur and an angular helicopter. They were moving much slower than what the reports had indicated. _If we can see them, they can certainly see us._

"That helicopter's a lot bigger than what I was expecting," Bullet Time said.

"Yeah," another Autobot said. "Especially since its sensor reading was so small."

Strika didn't respond, but she was hardly surprised. She recognized the Decepticon's form as a type of stealth helicopter humans used towards the end of the Great War, a craft that was supposed to have features that reduced its sensor return. Someone must have made some upgrades to get the same results with modern Cybertronian scanners, which was proof in her mind there was some larger organization at work. Even though she could see that the Decepticon's weapons bays were deployed, the helicopter didn't worry her.

It was his companion that concerned her. The tyrannosaur bore a construction she wasn't familiar with, and there was no telling what defensive and offensive weapons system this thing carried. She hated unknown factors, and the dinocon was a big one.

"They've stopped," a Maximal reported. Strika only nodded; the report hadn't been necessary. The tyrannosaur stood in the middle of the road while the helicopter hovered above. Taking a distance reading, she could see they were still a little over three hectometers away, apparently regarding their situation, assessing their chances.

"Should we blast them?" Bullet Time inquired.

"Keep that option open," Strika ordered, still studying the Decepticons. They weren't out of weapons range, but they were still far enough out that they could effectively duck. She watched apprehensively as the tyrannosaur seemed to straighten out and rotate a pair of blade-tipped arms towards the blockade.

"Looks like they're getting ready to charge," an Autobot said.

Strika didn't think so. She saw orbs of light slowly appear and begin to grow in the dinocon's mouth and in the center of each blade assembly. She had no idea what it meant… but she didn't like it.

"Be ready for anything, Lieutenant. The saurian seems to be charging something."

"Of course, Commander," Bullet Time replied.

"This is odd," one of the Maximals reported. "Scanners are picking up an energy surge."

"Where?"

"In front of us, in the vicinity of the Decepticons. And it's growing exponentially; it's already broken the four hundred kiloron mark."

"_Four hundred_ kilorons?" Strika exclaimed in shock.

"That's more power all my whole arsenal of proton missiles!" Bullet Time exclaimed. "Can you pin down the source?"

"I can try," the Autobot said. Strika turned back to the Decepticons in front of them. What in the Matrix was capable of generating that much power? Certainly not the 'cons; neither looked capable of generating that much energy.

"Energy surge now at eight hundred kilorons and rising."

_It can't be the Decepticons. To generate a surge that big, you'd need to be the size of Metroplex, maybe even bigger._

"Eleven hundred kilorons…"

Strika shivered, thinking, _That's nearly three times the power the original Megatron's fusion cannon was purported to generate. No one's..._

Then it hit her. She looked again towards the tyrannosaur and could see that the energy orbs in its jaws and blades had grown considerably larger, and were still growing.

_By Primus' spark – that Decepticon's carrying _**three**_ fusion cannons! And he's almost ready to fire!_

"_EVERYONE TAKE COVER, NOW!_" Strike shouted in horror.

"What?" Bullet Time inquired.

But it was already too late. The tyrannosaur fired at that moment, each beam aimed towards three different targets: the giant Transformers. They were all hit in their chest plates, initially with what appeared to be little effect, but the dinocon didn't stop discharging its weapons. Slowly, the beams bore their way through the armor, their victims as immobile as deer caught in a floodlight, until a glow could be seen in their backs. Only then did the Decepticon stop firing, and once the beams were cut off, explosions rocked the large Transformers. They fell to the ground, badly wounded.

The missile attack came next.

* * *

Off to the west, Wingshadow and Sting Claw were flying a route that would hopefully avoid any obstacles to their path. Their main worry weren't roadblocks, but aerial patrols. It had been Sting Claw's idea to fly a more circuitous route to the spaceport and Wingshadow hadn't argued. Flying over a series of cranes, they saw a bright glow appear in the east, followed by a noise that sounded like thunder. The light faded, but was followed by a series of small flashes and the popping sound of fireworks.

"Looks like Northclaw and Novacula have run into the constabulary," Wingshadow said.

"Certainly looks that way," Sting Claw replied. "You suppose Archanubis is with them?"

"Doubtful. You know how much he likes to be on his own."

"True. Well, we can't check to see where he went, orders and all."

"We could always contact Stratosphera."

"Nah, I don't want to bug her with something so trivial. Her scanners are put to better use keeping our skid plates out of trouble."

"I guess so." Wingshadow looked towards the battle in the distance. "You don't think Novacula would be defective enough to engage in a dogfight with those sparks aboard, do you?"

"I think Northclaw's perfectly capable of keeping 'Mad Novacula' in line. Even if that weren't the case, I'd still prefer him to haul such fragile cargo more than I would you."

"What the frag was that supposed to mean?"

"You're a fine one to talk about engaging in unnecessary dogfights," Sting Claw stated. "Especially since _you're_ the one member of this team with the reputation for being a 'hotdog'."

"Hey, if I'm going to do anything," Wingshadow said, "I'm gonna do it with style."

"This so-called 'style' gets of yours does nothing but earn you a few extra holes in your fuselage!" Sting Claw shot back. "Irikar might fall for your shtick…"

"What does Irikar have to do with anything?"

"Don't give me that load of static! Your attraction for that femme con is about as ambiguous as Unicron hovering over an asteroid. I've seen you when she's around, trying anything you can to impress…"

"Who I'm attracted to and how I go about trying to get their attention is no concern of yours!"

"No, but it does concern Archanubis, and if you do anything to jeopardize this mission…"

"If the two of you are done chewing on each other like a couple of Predacons," Stratosphera broke in, "then you might want to shift your scanners forward. My sensors have picked up two Maximal units near your position."

Wingshadow checked his sensors. "Maximals? Where? My scanners are clear."

"Some of the new cybernetic Maximals are able to cloak themselves from most sensor equipment," Sting Claw said. "Her scanners are more sensitive than our own; she'd be able to pick them up from a greater range than we could."

"Point taken," Wingshadow said. "Switch to combat scanners; they may have a shorter range, but we'll be able to scan more effectively."

"Agreed," Sting Claw said, switching over. "But I don't think we'll need them, they're on our two."

Wingshadow saw them. As reported, there were only two of them, moving quickly towards the Decepticons. When he saw them, he couldn't believe his optics and ran a brief diagnostic. Everything was within specs; he wasn't suffering from a cyber-hallucination. They really were being intercepted by a bat and large bird.

"Hey, look at this, Sting Claw. It seems the Maximals have sent the Dynamic Duo to stop us!" Sting Claw tried to stifle a laugh, but it came out as an electronic chortle.

As the Maximals closed the distance, the bird shouted, "Halt, Decepticons! This sector has been declared a off limits! Only authorized personnel are allowed here!"

"Yeah," the bat sneered. "Which means you Decpti-clowns better alter your course, pronto!"

"In your dreams, ya flying meat sacks!" Wingshadow shot back. "I got places to be and no time to lose!"

"If you do not amend your course immediately," the bird said, "we shall be forced to use extreme force."

"You Maximals don't know the meaning of 'extreme force'," Sting Claw said. "So why don't you feather brains just fly back to whatever nest you came from and get out of our way."

"I think you need have your optics checked; I'm a _bat_, not a _bird_."

"Thanks for the biology lesson; now here's one for you. What happens when small animals encounter large aircraft?" Sting Claw's cannons flipped forward. "They _lose_." He fired at the Maximals, who ducked the shots.

"You missed!" the bat sneered.

"Well then try duckin' this!" Wingshadow shot back and launched a missile at the Maximals. A second after launch, it broke into several smaller rockets, which then veered towards their intended targets like a swarm of angry hornets.

"Cluster missiles!" the bird exclaimed.

"Those are Destronger weapons!" the bat shouted. The Maximals flew off while ducking and dodging the swarm as best they could as the warheads exploded around them. By some miracle, they emerged from the maelstrom unharmed.

"That was _too_ close," the bat said. Wingshadow and Sting Claw swooped in at that moment and opened fire with their lasers.

"You had to say something, didn't you?" the bird demanded sourly. The bat only grunted as he flew off.

"You take care of Robin over there," Wingshadow said. "The flying rodent's _mine_."

"All over it," Sting Claw said, roaring off. Wingshadow turned to hound the bat.

"You still back there, you metal maniac?" the bat inquired.

"If a freak like yourself thinks he can shake me, go ahead and try," Wingshadow shot back.

"I've beaten bigger things than you," the bat said.

"Like what? The only thing it looks like you could beat is an Insecticon clone, and a tiny one at that."

"You'll regret those words, Decepticon. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

"Swooping down to pick fruit? Wow, I'm really impressed. You better pray you won't need to take your fruit through a _straw_ when I'm done."

"How do you know I already don't?" The bat transformed into a fairly lanky robot form, turned, and fired something at Wingshadow. He saw it coming and pulled up hard, dodging a set of fangs attached to a thin cable.

"Are you shooting your _dentures_ at me?" he snickered, turning for a dive. "If that's the best you can do, I got nothing to worry about."

"You want better?" the bat inquired. "How's about this?" He shrieked, emitting a wave of sonic energy towards the MiG.

"Oh, please," Wingshadow groaned and fired his afterburners, speeding up to just past Mach one, breaking through the sonic wave and roaring by the Maximal, knocking it off balance with his wake. "You think a little shouting is going to affect me? I was _built_ for breaking sound barriers." He slowed back to subsonic speed, turned, and took aim at the dazed little Transformer. "Here's a little present for ya. Enjoy!" He received a lock and fired another missile, this one just a bit smaller than his previous warhead.

The bat recovered just in time to see the rocket heading straight for him. He moved aside a few decimeters, allowing the rocket to slip by. Turning towards Wingshadow, he sneered, "You missed!"

"Are you familiar with a weapon the humans called a 'boomerang'? Same basic principle."

The bat heard a sound behind him and turned to see the missile had turned and was heading towards him again. He transformed back into his animal form and flew off as fast as he could, maneuvering wildly in order to escape. But no matter what he tried, it kept right on his tail, and he knew he couldn't keep dodging it forever. Figuring it was a heat seeker he decided to give it a new heat source to track. He dove to gain some distance over the warhead, doubled back to confuse it, and then flew straight towards Wingshadow, who had turned his attention towards supporting his teammate. The bat buzzed the MiG and situated himself so that the 'con was between him and the warhead.

"I got a little re-gift for you, Decepticon!"

Wingshadow saw the missile coming, but took no evasive action. He didn't even sound worried as he said, "And they call _me_ arrogant."

The bat was convinced the MiG had made a fatal mistake – until he watched in horror as the missile flew _under_ the Decepticon and headed straight towards him! The bat tried to run, but the missile was too close this time and struck home.

"I love spark seekers," Wingshadow sneered as he watched the Maximal plummet.

Meanwhile, the bird had lost sight of Sting Claw and was looking for him when he saw his partner get shot down. "Nightscream!" he shouted. Turning his attention towards Wingshadow, he proclaimed. "You've had your fun, vagrant, now prepare to meet my steel!"

"You really should pay more attention to your surroundings, Captain Cornball," Sting Claw said as he flew from out of nowhere. The Maximal turned too late, and the Decepticon cut him down using the blades under his engines. The fight now over, Sting Claw flew up to join Wingshadow.

"Transorganics are so over hyped," Wingshadow said smugly.

"Perhaps so," Sting Claw replied. "But I suggest we increase our speed. Our skirmish may have attracted some unwarranted attention."

"Affirmative," Wingshadow said. "The sooner we get off this vine infested planet, the better."

* * *

Further to the east, Archanubis flew low and slow over a commercial region. He wasn't sure if had been recognized at the prison, but there were those who knew him well and would likely be responding to the break-in. Like Wingshadow and Sting Claw, he had taken a less direct route and had taken precautions so that no one could trace his path back to its origins. If anyone encountered him, hopefully they'd think he had just entered the sector.

From his position, he could hear the sound of battle to the west and see smoke rising from among the buildings. He had no idea where Wingshadow and Sting Claw were, and though he could have contacted Stratosphera to find out, he didn't. Judging by the carnage he saw, he knew where Northclaw and Novacula were. That pair would probably be involved in a running fight the whole way, and poor Northclaw would be the likely reason behind it. There had been dinosaur Transformers before, but that walking artillery battery possessed a superstructure no one had seen before. He's stand out like Trypticon at a Maximal convention.

Catching him would be another matter entirely.

Archanubis heard a rumbling explosion behind him and glanced back in time to see a large fireball rise into the air. He was rarely showed any curiosity about anything, but he wondered just how much destruction the Dragoons would leave in their wake. He'd have to watch the news programs to find out when they got back to Destron. He saw another fireball roar into the sky.

After a few minutes flying, he heard a slight thumping sound coming from above, like the rotors of a helicopter. He looked up and saw a VTOL aircraft descending on him.

"Attention unidentified vehicle!" the VTOL said in a voice that sounded very familiar. "You have entered restricted airspace. Halt and identify yourself!"

_What a funny thing to say to an airplane_, Archanubis thought to himself. But he said nothing, transformed, and hovered in place. The VTOL flew in closer and transformed into a lanky robot with an angular head. It took one look at him and cocked its head slightly.

"Archanubis?"

He nodded once. "Hello, Obsidian. Fancy meeting you here."

Obsidian once was one of Cybertron's greatest military minds, but the same events that had brought on the planet's "green" age had also disgraced him. Archanubis knew that the former general now held the official rank of commander and generally wasn't trusted by his superiors – or subordinates. They had met on several occasions, usually Archanubis hauled in a bounty. Neither had really bothered to get to know the other.

"What are you doing in this area?" Obsidian demanded. "Dropping off another bounty?"  
_Careful_, Archanubis thought to himself. _This isn't a Transformer to take lightly._ "Not this time, Commander. I had some accounts I needed to check up on. Of course, if there's a prize available…"

Obsidian narrowed his optics, studying him. "So you're not here looking for some energon cache?"

"Not unless you're offering."

"No, I'm not. Whatever your reasons for being here, I must insist you leave. The area within a twenty kilometer radius has been designated a no-fly zone. Only authorized personnel are allowed in here. You should have come across by the emergency beacons."

"Emergency beacons?" Archanubis shrugged. "Didn't hear anything when I came through."

"The beacons were activated not half a mega-cycle ago," Obsidian said. "There's been a break-in at the Iacon Detention Facility and we're searching for the perpetrators now."

Archanubis angled his head, feigning surprise. "Why would anyone want to break into that fortress?"

"No idea just yet. But Security is clearing the area of civilians, just in case any of the architects are tempted to take hostages."

"I would presume that you are considering these criminals to be armed and dangerous?"

"Definitely." As if to punctuate his point, another explosion ripped through air.

"That would explain the fireworks," Archanubis said. "If there is anything I can do to help…"

"I've told you what you can do," Obsidian said. "Leave this sector immediately. We're capable of handling this."

Archanubis heard another rumble in the distance, further from the last. "I'm sure you are." He transformed and flew away, saying, "Good luck, Commander. See you the next time I plan to collect a bounty."

* * *

At the spaceport, Irikar heard the explosions outside and moved to the entrance, taking care to keep out of sight. She saw the thick plumes of smoke rising into the air and figured the boys had gotten themselves into a spot of trouble. She didn't know what had happened over at the prison and had considered contacting Archanubis or Stratosphera, but had reneged on that idea. She'd learn what happen soon enough.

Irikar had been a bit annoyed at being ordered away to essentially go "shopping" for an escape vessel. She thought the others might require her skills within the prison itself, and she had said so when the plans had been first drawn up back on Destron. But Archanubis had disagreed, and there would be no arguing with him, especially once the mission was underway. She'd lodge a complaint to Thunderscream – and her own, private misgivings to Venomous Prime – later. For the moment, she merely obeyed her orders.

That wasn't to say that she had been idle at this time. Upon her arrival, she had vented her frustrations on the small contingent of guards that were posted around, and then secured the facility as best she could before proceeding to locate an appropriate ship. As she had was looking, another contingent of Autobots had arrived, but they had been dealt with thanks to a nasty little surprise she had waiting for any reinforcements. Watching a new explosion rise into the air, Irikar was glad she had taken that precaution. She knew she was good, but if the Autobots and Maximals arrived in overwhelming numbers, she couldn't hold the spaceport by herself. As it was, she figured that most of the security forces in the region would be too busy trying to catch her teammates to worry about sending any large contingent to the spaceports. Her traps could handle the few that had undoubtedly been sent.

She saw a bright orb of light rise from directly in front of her, heard a deep rumble, and felt a slight breeze flow past her. _Northclaw_, she thought, recognizing the effects of the dinocon's weaponry. _Well, I know where he is. However, it doesn't mean the others are with him…_

As if answering the question on her mind, Wingshadow and Sting Claw swooped into view, engines roaring. They flew in low before transforming and landing in front of her.

"G'day, shelia," Wingshadow said in one of those accents he sometimes imitated – always badly – while tipping an imaginary cap. "Our apologizes if we're a bit late, but we had to take care of some unfriendly blokes on the way 'ere."

Irikar nodded silently, smiling inwardly. _He never takes anything seriously_, she thought. She nodded towards Sting Claw, acknowledging him, and he returned the gesture.

"Where are the others?"

"They'll be along in a bit," Sting Claw said. "Archanubis had us split up in order to avoid the constabulary capturing us wholesale. I don't know where he went, but Northclaw and Novacula should be coming together."

"Novacula went with Northclaw? Why?"

"Probably to cover the saurian's back," Wingshadow said. "Though Primus only knows why Northclaw needs _anyone_ to cover _him_."

"To quote Venomous Prime, 'Even Unicron wasn't invulnerable.' Northclaw is powerful, but hardly invincible."

"That much we agree on," Sting Claw said. He glanced to his right, and saw the smoldering hulk of what had been an Autobot transport. "Looks like you've kept busy."

"I planted some energon mines around the area to secure it against any reinforcements that might come this way," Irikar explained. Looking off towards the devastation, she added, "Considering current events, it looks like I was justified."

The pair weren't paying attention; the moment she mentioned mining the ground, they had looked down at their feet in a mild panic. "I hope we're not _standing_ on one of those things," Wingshadow stated, a fearful quiver in his tone.

"One of Scavendrill's little inventions," Irikar said. "The mines are set to explode _only_ if they detect the signature of an Autobot or Maximal. It's unlikely that any of us will set them off."

"Good to know," Sting Claw said. "I have no desire to drag Northclaw anywhere should his legs get blown off."

"Nor do I," Irikar said. "That saurian's too heavy for _my_ tastes."

The team heard the sound of a jet engine approaching, turned, and saw Archanubis approaching. The team's commander transformed and landed feet first a short distance from the group.

"Sorry for the delay," he said as he approached. "I took the long way here. Report."

Irikar responded immediately. "I've secure the port and a ship that I'm certain you will find satisfactory. Given that you've attracted some unwanted attention, I suggest we get going as soon as possible."

Archanubis looked at the group a moment. "Where are Northclaw and Novacula?"

"They should be here any moment," Wingshadow said. "Considering they took the direct route, I would have assumed that they would have been here waiting for the rest of us."

"Most of the security forces are concentrating in their vicinity," Archanubis said. "They probably have a rough fight on their hands."

"Perhaps it was a mistake to have Novacula carry all the sparks," Sting Claw said. "We should have split them up among ourselves. If they catch him, this mission's been for naught."

"Too late to worry about it now. We'll just have to hope those two aren't captured or Thunderscream will have my processor."

"Not to mention what Gigatron'll do," Wingshadow said.

"He'd have to deal what's leftover," Archanubis stated.

"Hold it, you!" a voice shouted out. The Dragoons turned and saw a mechanical lion, standing on the edge of Irikar's minefield, glaring at the team. They could see the Autobot insignia on emblazoned on one shoulder.

"You guys aren't authorized to be in this sector!" the Autobot yelled at them. "Remove yourselves immediately!"

The Dragoons didn't move. Irikar watched the lion as it began to stride closer. _That's it, keep walking this way. Sooner or later, your foot's going to land in the wrong place and you'll receive a nasty little shock…_

"Hey!" the lion barked again. "Are your audio receptors malfunctioning or something? Get out of here…"

It was just then Northclaw decided to come barreling through. Hearing the saurian's thrusters, the Autobot turned, saw him coming, and tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late. Northclaw clipped him with enough force to send the Autobot flying. He came down a short distance away – right on top of a mine.

Watching the Autobot get ripped apart by the warhead, Archanubis inquired, "You mined the area, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir," Irikar said.

"Scavendrill's new toy?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good thinking," Archanubis stated as Northclaw pulled up. "You're late."

"Traffic on this planet is a nightmare, Lieutenant," Northclaw responded. "No one here knows when to _move_."

It was a rare joke from him, and Archanubis heard chuckling behind him. He merely stared at his subordinate. "And Novacula?"

"He'll be along in a minute. He's a couple meters away, engaged in a small dogfight."

"You left Novacula alone with an enemy, considering his cargo?" Wingshadow asked in horror.

"Does it _look_ like I'm capable of supporting an aerial battle between two gunships?" Northclaw demanded.

"We'll wait a cycle for him to finish," Archanubis said, intervening before an argument could ensue. He switched his communicator on. "Dragon's Swarm to Eye-in-the-Sky; take a final scan of the sector, then bring yourself in. We're leaving."

"Copy that, Dragon's Swarm. See you in a cycle."

Archanubis shut his communicator off, heard the sound of laser fire, and turned. Novacula had arrived, apparently with his dance partner in tow. He was engaged with another helicopter, though no one could tell if it was an Autobot or Maximal. The combatants were pulling every sort of maneuver imaginable, firing their lasers at each other, both trying to get the advantage over the other. Judging by the way he was dodging, it was obvious Novacula was considering the safety of his cargo.

Irikar stepped up to Archanubis, saying, "Perhaps I should go help him. He may need assistance shaking his opponent."

He didn't have to answer. As the combatants continued maneuvering, he saw a bolt of light come out of the sky and strike Novacula's opponent, hard. Watching the other helicopter go down in flames, he was impressed by the marksmanship. It had been a difficult shot, one only a skilled sniper could have pulled off, and he knew there was only one Decepticon among them who had that sharp an optic.

An M-17 "Mystic" observation plane swooped gracefully down out of the sky and took up a position next to Novacula. The pair approached the rest of the group, transformed, and landed feet first. Novacula turned to the lanky Decepticon next to him.

"Thanks for the assist, Stratosphera," he said.

Stratosphera only nodded. She was a tall and slender Transformer, painted a light gray-white with a bit of blue trim. She was referred to in feminine terms though she bore little resemblance to humanoid females; her thin robot form was due in large part to her alternate mode. Her head was long and oval shaped, with little trace of any humanoid features.

"Good timing," Archanubis told her as she and Novacula approached.

"Doing my job, Lieutenant," she answered. "Might I suggest that we get to cover? Novacula and Northclaw may have left a swath of destruction behind them, but there are more Autobots and Maximals converging on this sector."

"Good idea." He turned to face Irikar. "You said you had a ship picked out for us."

"Yes, sir, large enough to carry everyone and the fastest one of the bunch."

"Lead on, sergeant."

Irikar nodded and the Dragoons entered the spaceport, with the last one in closing the hatch behind them. She led them through the collection of vessels towards one that had an exceptionally sleek appearance, like a racing drone on the tracks of Velocitron. In Archanubis' opinion, she had chosen well. They would have no trouble slipping past the slow, lightly armed patrol shuttles and defense satellites that orbited Cybertron.

As they approached the ship, Stratosphera reported, "I scanned our flight route out of here, as you ordered. A few patrol shuttles have taken up position directly above us. Judging by Irikar's selection, they shouldn't pose a hazard, however…"

Archanubis didn't like the tone her voice just took. "However, what?"

"There is an Autobot light cruiser in geosynchronous orbit above the prison. It's part of the new class that our spies reported were coming into service. The registry's unknown; it could be a new ship."

"Could it intercept us before we enter transwarp?"

"Its close enough that it would be inhaling our exhaust the moment we break orbit."

Archanubis pondered that news sullenly. If it was a little further away, they might have a chance, but given Stratosphera's report, it wasn't possible to slip by it. He knew the new cruisers were fast enough to catch them and sufficiently armed to stop them. Even if by some chance the Dragoons managed to enter transwarp without the cruiser disabling the engines, they'd be tracked all the way back to the Hylion System.

"We have to find a way to shake that cruiser before we enter transwarp," he said.

Wingshadow shrugged. "How about we just take it?"

Irikar froze in her tracks and whirled on him. "Have scraplets infested your CPU? All of these ships are civilian craft; none of them have the combat capability to take on a light cruiser!"

"Who said anything about _fighting _the cruiser?" Wingshadow inquired. "Sting Claw, you remember that little maneuver you, Darkwylde, and I pulled near Orcus Twelve?"

Sting Claw's optics seemed to brighten with the recollection. "Way ahead of you. With your permission, sir, I can start right away."

"Start what?" Archanubis demanded. "What are you two fritzing about?"

"Before we were assigned to the Dragoons," Wingshadow explained, "Sting Claw, Darkwylde, and I had an assignment near Orcus Twelve and found ourselves in a similar situation. Of course, our opponent was a Kaonite destroyer, but I doubt that anyone on Cybertron's heard about it."

"_Heard about what?_"

Wingshadow grinned. "We pulled a little 'bait and switch' on the destroyer's crew. We let them board our ship, stormed theirs, dumped the crew, and then escaped before the boarding party realized what had happened."

"Clever," Northclaw stated.

"I thought so," Sting Claw said. "And it turned out the Decepticons we hoodwinked were under the command of one of Neo Kaon's most fabled warriors; Blizzard herself."

Northclaw glanced over at Archanubis, saying "Impressive. She's not deceived that easily."

"She's must have been having a bad solar cycle then," Wingshadow laughed. "Primus, I wish we could have seen the look on that antediluvian femme-con's faceplate."

"I'm surprised she didn't track you down and tear out your processors in fit of rage," Northclaw said.

"Not with the little 'modifications' I made," Sting Claw said. "Which I can do again, if you'll allow, Lieutenant."

Archanubis thought for a moment. "Stratosphera, what information do you have on the crew compliment of this class?"

"According to our intelligence, standard crew is about eight, though it can comfortably fit up to twenty average sized Autobots."

"It probably doesn't have that many," Archanubis mused aloud. He glanced over at Northclaw. "But we still may have a chance even if it is. Sting Claw; proceed with your 'modifications'. The rest of you, get aboard and prepare for take-off."


	6. Have a Nice Day

His full name was Raiderstrike, but everyone either called him as "Raider" for short or by his rank. Tall and striking, his sleek frame was concealed by the huge wings that were folded around him like a cloak. Primarily black in color with silver trim, he possessed two antennae-like horns that rose from his chest up past his head, a long, segmented tail and a set of silver-colored talons on his feet. He was typically assigned to solo missions, but in this case, his superiors felt it necessary to assign with a crew.

The shuttle had delivered him to the _Silverstreak_, the latest addition in a new class of light cruisers developed by the Autobots and Maximals. The ship had been in orbit for the last few solar cycles taking on provisions before heading out to patrol an area near the border when the prison break was occurred. Although there were plenty of patrol ships around Cybertron, the _Silverstreak_ was ordered into orbit above the prison for a little added insurance.

Once aboard, Raider followed a member of the crew down a corridor from the shuttlebay to the bridge, where he would meet the ship's commander, Flashwave. He had never met the Autobot before, but knew his reputation as a capable, if somewhat mischievous, warrior. Fortunately, that mischief was always directed at his opponents and he'd been given the _Silverstreak_ for his superb services.

Raider stepped onto the bridge and immediately saw Flashwave, standing in front of the command chair at the center of the bridge. The crewman who had escorted him aboard walked up to him and stated, "Sir, Lieutenant Raiderstrike is here."

Flashwave turned, saw Raider, and moved towards him. "Lieutenant," he said, returning Raider's salute, "welcome aboard the _Silverstreak_."

"Thank you, Commander. As per orders of Central Command, I am here to help you coordinate in the effort to capture the escapees."

"I am aware of my instructions. I appreciate the extra assistance, although I doubt that it will be necessary."

"I don't question my instructions, at least, not in this case. Commander, have you read the reports on the Decepticons involved in this raid?"

"Only bits and pieces," Flashwave admitted. "I must admit, the few reports I have received are contradictory at best."

That was to be expected; no one on the ground really knew what was going on, either. Raider explained, "I don't know if you are aware of this, but at least one of the Decepticons involved is carrying some serious heat. We have reports that our ground forces have lost at least six Sentinels and two Gestalts."

"Even if those reports are true, it's unlikely that the Decepticons would use that weaponry in a situation where it would obviously do more harm than good. I've also read that there are only five of them involved, with the possibility of a sixth. I have sixteen officers and crew on this ship, seventeen if we include you. I think that'll be more than enough."

Raider nodded slightly. "Let us hope so, sir. In the meantime, all outgoing flights from Cybertron have been grounded. The only ships that are authorized to be in this sector are military spacecraft, so unless they manage to steal a battle cruiser…"

"Doubtful," Flashwave said. "If they plan to escape by ship, they'll go for one of the civilian ports, which aren't as heavily guarded."

"Then there should have no problem catching them," Raider finished.

The rest of the crew had turned to listen to conversation, and now one of them spoke up. "It's possible they'll head for the far side of the planet and steal a ship from one of the spaceports there. You know, throw the authorities off their tracks."

Flashwave turned to face the speaker. "That's not likely, Cloudrazor, at least not with the entire planet looking for them. They'll head for the closest spaceport and find the fastest ship they can get their hands on."

"It won't do them any good," another Autobot said. "The _Silverstreak _will catch up with them no matter what kind of ship they take."

"Well put, Titan." Flashwave moved back to the command chair and sat down. "But first, we have to wait for them to leave the planet; provided they've even managed to reach a spaceport."

At that moment, someone called out, "Commander, we have a sensor contact!"

Flashwave turned. "Full report, Tech Spec. What have we got?"

"_Skyfire_-class starrunner just blasted its way out of the Iacon Interstellar Docks and is currently exiting the atmosphere at high speed. It's gotta be the raiders."

"Visual!" Flashwave ordered, turning to the holo-screen. An image immediately appeared and he could see a sleek, gray-white craft roar from the planet's surface. "Lock on to that ship's path and set an intercept course."

"Already on it, sir," came the reply. Flashwave could see the image on the screen begin to move, a clear indication the _Silverstreak_ was responding to the helmsman's command. The starrunner suddenly altered its course, responding to the presence of the cruiser.

"They're attempting to evade us," Raider commented, as he walked up beside Flashwave.

"We'll soon show them otherwise. Stay on them, helmsman. Tactical, once we're within range, target their engines; I don't want them going anywhere."

The two ships continued their dance in space, the stolen starrunner pulling every maneuver in a desperate effort to lose the cruiser. The _Silverstreak_ continued to close the distance, matching its prey move for move. Flashwave watched the scene with his hands folded in front of his mouth plate, patiently waiting for the inevitable.

"I'm surprised they haven't attempted to enter transwarp space yet," Raider commented.

Flashwave shook his head. "Whoever's leading them is more intelligent than expected. If they entered transwarp now, we'd be able to track them back to their base. If they can throw us off track, even for a moment, then they'll have their chance. I don't intend to give it to them."

"Within weapons range now, Commander," the tactical station reported. "I have a lock on their engines."

"Open a channel," Flashwave ordered. "I want to give them a chance to surrender first."

"Channel open."

"Attention Decepticons! This is Commander Flashwave, commanding officer of the Cybertronian light cruiser _Silverstreak_. By the authority invested in me by the Council of Elders and the Pax Cybertronia, I order you to shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded. If you do not comply, we will be forced to open fire."

The reply came in the form of silence. Flashwave repeated, "Decepticon crew, this is the _Silverstreak_, shut down your engines and surrender or we will have no choice but to open fire."

There was no response. Raider observed the ship on the screen, saying, "It appears they're ignoring you."

"They won't ignore this," Flashwave retorted. "Target their engines and open fire."

Raider turned his attention back to the screen and watched as the energy from the _Silverstreak's_ weapons banks arched towards the starrunner. The ship managed to dodge a few shots, but them one beam struck home and the starrunner veered out of control.

"Lock a tractor beam onto that ship and bring it to a complete stop!" Flashwave barked, standing.

"Tractor beam engaged!" was the reply. "We have a lock and we're reeling in our catch now."

"Bring that ship alongside and prepare the docking system. We'll send aboard a boarding party to secure that ship and its crew." He turned to Raider. "I'll have you lead the mission, Lieutenant. You're more informed about the Decepticons' abilities than any of us here."

Raider nodded, grateful for the opportunity, but too reserved to say so. Flashwave turned to the rest of his crew.

"Cloudrazor, Titan, Keystroke, you'll join him. Pick up Sea Bee on your way; he needs the experience. Pick two or three more crewmen on your way; if Raiderstrike's right, you may need the extra backup."

"Sir, if we have a boarding party that large," Cloudrazor protested, "you'll only have half your crew compliment aboard."

"Can't be helped," Flashwave shrugged. "These Decepticons have already proven themselves to be dangerous and they'll become more so now that we've cornered them."

* * *

The _Silverstreak_ slid alongside the smaller starrunner and extended a viaduct from her airlock to the other, linking the two ships together. Once everything was secure, Raiderstrike lead the boarding party off the cruiser and into the link.

The airlock opened onto the deck of the starrunner, but Raider held everyone back. The Decepticons were probably waiting for them just outside, just out of sight, waiting for the first Autobot to step into their crosshairs. He approached the entry carefully, moving until he had a clear view of the deck, and saw no indication that the crew was waiting for them. He briefly considered sticking his tail out of the airlock in order to draw fire, a trick he had seen in an old holo-comedy. But he figured the Decepticons were too clever to fall for that tired old cliché, so he took a bigger risk and carefully stuck his head out of the hatch.

Still no reaction. Either the Decepticons had made a big mistake or they were attempting to lure their pursuers into a false sense of security. Stepping carefully on to the deck, he motioned to the others to follow him. The party came aboard, weapons drawn, fanning out across the corridor.

A small Autobot took up position next to Raider and looked down the corridor. "Too quiet," he said. "I thought for sure the Decepticons would be waiting for us when we came aboard."

"That would be a logical assumption, Sea Bee" Titan said.

"It would," Raider agreed. He waited a moment, and then ordered, "Keystroke, Sea Bee, you two head for the engine room, check the damage. I'd rather have this ship on its own power than to have it towed." He pointed to another member of the team. "You go with them, and be careful. The Decepticons could be anywhere."

Sea Bee and Keystroke, a slim femme-bot with blade-like wings, nodded and headed towards the back of the ship with their escort in tow. Raider waited a moment, listening for the sound of laser fire. When he didn't hear it, he motioned to the others to follow him.

The boarding party moved down the corridor carefully; alternating positions as they advanced, ready to receive anything. But they encountered no resistance, no ambushes, and no sign of the crew.

"I don't like this," Cloudrazor said. "It's like a ghost ship in here."

"It shouldn't be this easy," Titan said, apparently worried. "We should have encountered _something_ by now."

"Keep your sensors on high alert," Raider said. "They could still be here, waiting."

"But _where_?"

Raider thought for a moment. "Head for the bridge; if they're hiding anywhere, that's it'll be."

"Or back in engineering," Cloudrazor said.

"We would have heard something from the others by now if that were the case," Titan stated.

Raider didn't respond, as he strode carefully down the corridor, followed by the rest of the team.

* * *

The boarding party reached the bridge, fully expecting to finally find their opponents, only to find it as deserted as the rest of the ship. Raider spread the team out, still expecting an ambush at any moment, but after a few cycles, he began to understand that it just wasn't going to happen. He saw Titan approach the helm and begin checking the console display. Meanwhile, Cloudrazor had moved to the back of the bridge and was looking at the controls there.

"I don't get it," Cloudrazor said. "There's no sign of them _anywhere_. If they abandoned ship, surely the _Silverstreak's_ sensors would have picked them up."

"Maybe they were never aboard," Titan offered. "According to the database, the autopilot's been engaged since this ship took off. None of the escape pods have been jettisoned, so it's unlikely they took off then abandoned ship."

"Activate the shipboard scanners," Raider ordered. "Let's determined how many units are aboard."

An Autobot moved towards one of the consoles and carried out the order. "Only eight units aboard, sir; all of them Autobots. No sign of any Decepticons."

"They must have ditched before the ship took off," Titan repeated.

"Or they're using some kind of new cloaking technology," Raider thought aloud. He heard the sound of footprints approaching, looked up, and saw Keystroke enter the bridge.

"We've checked the damage to the engines, as ordered," she said. "They're still with operational specifications. We can send the ship back to its owner without a problem."

"Any sign of the Decepticons?" Raider inquired.

"Not screw nor bolt of 'em," Keystroke replied. "It's like they were never aboard."

Raider moved to the communications console, saying, "We'd better report this to Flashwave. He'll need to notify Central Command that the Decepticons may still on Cybertron." He activated the ship-to-ship intercom. "Raider to _Silverstreak_; there's no one aboard here. The Decepticons may have sent us a dummy ship to throw us off their tracks. Please respond."

There was no answer. Raider was suddenly worried, called out, "_Silverstreak_, please respond. The Decepticons…"

And then he heard it; the sound of laser fire. But it was coming from over the comlink, not from anywhere aboard the starrunner. Cloudrazor walked up behind him and listened carefully.

"What the slag is going on over there?"

Raider knew exactly what was happening. "The Decepticons have boarded the _Silverstreak_ and are trying to take it over!" He heard the weapons fire stop, but couldn't tell which side had won. "Quick! Everyone back to the airlock! We have to reinforce Flashwave immediately! Keystroke, where's Sea Bee?"

Keystroke was looking at a console as she replied, "Back in Engineering with our escort, but I don't think we need to bother with ordering anyone back to the _Silverstreak_."

"Why the Pit not?"

"Because the docking connector just disengaged."

Raider looked up at the holo-viewer and saw the _Silverstreak_ sailing past them, moving towards deep space. That didn't bode well for the fate of Flashwave and the rest of his crew.

"Stations! Lock on to that ship's course!"

"This isn't exactly a warship we're on here," Titan said as the team ran to the consoles around them.

"We can still track them!" Raider said. "We'll stay out of weapons range as we follow, but I'm not going to allow them such a clean getaway."

"Look!" Keystroke exclaimed, pointing to the screen. "Something's fallen off the ship!"

Raider saw what she was talking about. Small objects were floating away from the _Silverstreak_, but he could tell that they hadn't fallen off; they'd been thrown off. He counted silently; nine in all.

"Primus," Titan said in shock. "They've ejected the crew."

"Contact the nearest patrol ship," Raider ordered. "Send them these coordinates and tell them to get their skid plates over here post haste! Do we have a lock on the cruiser's course yet?"

"Working on it," Keystroke said. "Sir, the _Silverstreak's_ transwarp drive is engaging!"

"Get me that lock stat! Let's find out exactly where these 'cons are heading!"

"Lock established."

_Well, it's about time_. "Prepare for transwarp jump!" Raider ordered. "I want to be right on their tail when they make their run."

"Aye, sir."

Raider watched the _Silverstreak_ continue to move away from them right up until it appeared to disappear through what looked like a fold in space. The _Silverstreak_ had entered transwarp space.

"Engage transwarp!" Raider ordered. At the helm, he saw Titan comply with the order and heard the engines begin to power up. They would soon be on the trail…

At the height of their charge cycle, the engines suddenly made a sputtering noise, whined, chugged… and then promptly died.

Raider watched Titan work furiously, trying to figure out what was wrong. He heard the computer slur, "Transwarp drive engaged…" before sputtering out completely. He walked up to the helm and looked over Titan's shoulder, looking at the readouts. According to the readings they were being shown, everything was in perfect order and they traveling in transwarp – only Raider's optics said otherwise. The display suddenly flickered, withered, and then went dark. A message typed itself into view:

"Have a Nice Day."


	7. Inspection Day

Far from the reach of Cybertron's Autobot and Maximal overlords lay the system of Hylion. The system consisted of seven planets that orbited around a massive, G-type star and an equally massive black hole, sapping gases and plasma from its neighbor and regularly ejecting antimatter into space. Three of the four outer most planets were Jovian giants, all of them more massive than Jupiter in the Sol System, and in orbit around the largest was the moon known as Destron.

Destron lay on the outskirts of a massive collection of natural satellites around the massive Jovian and was the largest moon in the entire system. It was slightly larger than the planet Mars and shared the same geographic features. A massive desert of red, iron rich dust, the only break was at the poles, where small caps of water ice and frozen carbon dioxide lay, but even these bore a slight reddish tint. Craters and canyons pockmarked the surface while massive ancient volcanic peaks loomed over the terrain. The slightest breeze could stir up massive dust storms that could envelop the entire surface of the moon.

As inhospitable as Destron was to life, there was evidence that it was indeed here. Massive metropolises could be seen from space; as well as spider-web like roads crisscrossing the surface, connecting one settlement with another. There were also great reservoirs of water, some so large that they could be seen from orbit. But the life here wasn't organic – it was mechanical.

Centuries ago, the Hylion System had once been a supply depot for the rouge Decepticon nation known as the Cybertronian Empire. Provision and materials of every kind had come from the planets, moons, and asteroids in the system, supplying the vast armies of Liege Maximo and Jhiaxus. But the Cybertronian Empire had become a victim of its entry into the Great War; Jhiaxus had been defeated and eventually terminated, while Liege Maximo lost the iron grip he had once held over his worlds, watching helplessly as his empire fatally fragmented itself.

For years afterward, the Hylion System had suffered from the chaos, torn apart by bickering warlords more interested in maintaining their own fragile grips of power than protecting their worlds from marauders. In the past few decades, however, things had begun to change as a warlord from Destron began to unite the system through either diplomacy or brute force. The Destron Empire had been born, and it had extended its reach to several systems of the old Cybertronian Empire. Such alliances had come and gone before, but to Destron's nervous neighbors, there was something different about this one…

* * *

"As you can see General, my unit here is at the pinnacle of its performance. I trust you will find the rest of the facility to your satisfaction."

Thunderscream nodded silently, already bored with the long-winded, pre-rehearsed speech from the colonel. His aides followed behind, along with his black-colored Vehicon jet bodyguards. They walked by a line of Decepticon warriors who were standing at attention as their superiors looked them over.

Thunderscream was about average height for his race and of medium build, his expression forever frozen into a permanent glare, thanks to the mouth plate on his black face. He was mostly dark green in color with navy blue, gold, and dark gray. His face was enclosed in a dark gray helmet topped by a large, triangular green crest that added several additional meters to his actual height. He was the head of all military forces in the empire, a position he had occupied for the past seven stellar cycles. He had come to the base on an inspection, one of the most feared tasks in the Destron forces. He had implemented random, unannounced assessments after a "Grand Tour" of his command revealed the shoddy conditions of the defenses his predecessor had left behind. He was usually too busy to make a personal inspection, but one of report had mentioned some incongruities at this particular base and he wanted to check it out himself.

"We operate with the highest standards in mind," the smaller Decepticon was saying. Thunderscream knew the colonel only as Kyyrik, hadn't even met him before now. "And we maintain a high level of alertness should we be needed to respond to any event, be it an interstellar storm or an Autobot attack."

Thunderscream emitted a short, electronic grunt. Throughout their whole meeting, Kyyrik had been acting skittish, always glancing at his superior like he had done something wrong. He attributed it to his presence; there was nothing in Kyyrik's service record that would hint that he was into any sort of shady dealings, though one could never be sure.

"If I may say so, sir, the concerns of your previous assessor were completely unfounded," Kyyrik said. "Everything conforms to all regulations right down to the final byte."

"That's what this visit will determine," Thunderscream said. "I haven't spent the past few cycles fixing the mistakes of my antecedent to find that one of my subordinates has become complacent."

"I agree sir!" Kyyrik exclaimed, pumping a fist. "And you shall find that it is not the case here!"

"Your enthusiasm is appreciated, Colonel, if superfluous. I am pleased at what I see, thus far. I will tell you if there is a problem."

"Yes, sir."

"Perhaps we should move on the repair center; the reports mentioned that this base was still equipped with the Mark V chambers."

"Right this way, sir," Kyyrik said. As they walked, he continued, "We have ordered the new Mark IX system, but according to the quartermaster's office, they're backordered for the next deca-cycle. Of course, if the General were to use his influence and status…"

Thunderscream suppressed a groan; the quartermaster's office was another disaster left by his predecessor. "The quartermasters are busy enough without having their supreme commander looking over their shoulders. And I will not curry favors to anyone – least of all to one of my subordinates who should know better."

Kyyrik knew when he'd been chastised. "Of course, General," he said sullenly, bowing his head. "It's just frustrating when you're trying to upgrade in order to conform to the new regulations and you can't get even so much as a stem bolt."

"Completely understandable," Thunderscream said. _I, too, wish things could move faster, but my antecedent left things to decay for far too long. At the moment, the frontier and borders have priority, but I cannot afford to ignore our other installations._

Thinking on the subject a moment, he knew the list of things to do was long and overwhelming; when he took command, over eight-five percent of the installations in the Empire needed upgrades of some kind and at least twenty percent of those were in absolutely no shape to fend off so much as a scouting patrol. It was a daunting task to improve these facilities, and Thunderscream was buried up to his neck braces in the red tape.

"So long as everything's in working order," he continued, "I don't foresee a problem."

Kyyrik only nodded. They walked in silence towards a low building in the distance for a while when one of Thunderscream's aides called out. "General." He stopped and turned to look at the aide. The other Decepticon pointed skyward. "Several craft approaching, sir."

Thunderscream glanced skyward towards where the aide was indicating and instantly saw them; a pair of dark-blue sled-like hovercraft escorting a large, white and black Cybertronian jet, the wings a deep violet-blue with the texture of solar panels. It was hard not to noticed them, especially with the Destron sky as a backdrop. He saw them turn with exceptional grace and head for the base. He heard Kyyrik groan and glanced at him. The colonel looked ready to pop a bolt – with good reason.

The trio flew down until they hovered just a few feet off the ground and transformed into their robot forms. The "sleds" transformed into tall, sleek Sweeps, their faces reconstructed slightly so that they sported the metallic equivalent of handlebar mustaches and goatees. They also sported significantly smaller crests than their predecessors. Their charge was slightly taller, bearing the same white, black and blue coloring as his jet mode, but now Thunderscream could also see bits of red, gold, silver, and violet, along with a small bit of blue-green on either side of his chest. Crimson eyes and a deep gray face looked out from a primarily white helmet with a pair of gold crests, one on each side, and a smaller, red crest above the eyes.

This was Gigatron, the leader of the Destron Empire, the handpicked heir to the remnants of Liege Maximo's empire. Under his command, the Hylion system had been united through a combination of skillful negotiations and military conquests. He intended to reunite the remnants of the Cybertronian Empire and there were those who believed that he had his eye on the whole of Decepticon territory. However, he believed that amalgamating the old empire through military force alone was a waste of resources that could be better used elsewhere. There was, after all, more than one way to win allies.

One of the Sweeps stepped forward and began to proclaim, "Announcing the arrival of the Supreme Overlord of the Destron Empire…"

"There's no need to state the obvious, corporal. Unless their optics are malfunctioning, they can see who it is."

"My apologies, my lord."

If he still had a mouth, Thunderscream would have been fighting back a smile. Gigatron had been declared the "Supreme Overlord" by the Destron Senate, but it was a title that he rarely used. His distaste for what he called "frivolous ceremony" was well known and he would go out his way to disrupt any rite that centered on him. More often than not, that involved him merely ignoring it.

Thunderscream watched as Kyyrik walked forward. "Greetings, Lord Gigatron, and welcome to the Syti Military Station. We were not expecting you this day; else we would have prepared a more appropriate welcome for you."

"I had no initial plans to be this way, Colonel," Gigatron replied, glancing behind Kyyrik to see Thunderscream approaching slowly. "Hello, old friend."

Kyyrik nodded slowly, turned, and finally noticed the general's approach. Thunderscream stepped ahead of the colonel and nodded slightly. "Hello, Gigatron. I trust all is well."

"As well as it can be, General," Gigatron said, returning the nod. He turned his attention back to Kyyrik. "Colonel, if it's not too much trouble, I would like to borrow the General for a moment. We have some business to discuss."

"My lord, that is entirely at the discretion of General Thunderscream."

"I will be but a moment," Thunderscream told Kyyrik with a slight nod. "Please inform to my aides that there will be a slight delay."

"Yes, sir," Kyyrik saluted before turning and heading for the general's staff.

Meanwhile, Gigatron had turned to his own guards. "Follow close, but not too close. I wish to speak to the General in private."

"Yes, my lord," the Sweeps responded. Gigatron nodded, turned to Thunderscream, and indicated that he should follow. The general obeyed and the pair headed away from the gathered troops.

* * *

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Thunderscream as they walked away from the others.

Gigatron turned to make sure that his guards were where he wanted them, noticed that Thunderscream's own bodyguards were with his own. Thunderscream noticed the look, glanced back, and saw the anxious expressions on the Sweep's faceplates.

"Your guards seemed to be concerned about something."

Gigatron nodded. "It's like I've requested that they take a plunge into the heart of the black hole. It's annoying, really." He smiled slightly. "It's not me they're afraid of, you know. It's Xedrethor they have their optics peeled for. I'm a housecat compared to him."

"I'm surprised your self-proclaimed protoform nurse isn't tagging along with you."

"I snuck out a window while he wasn't looking," Gigatron said with a slight smile. Thunderscream's comment was perhaps one of the nicer terms that the Destrons used in reference to the Head of Internal Security. Xedrethor wasn't popular with many, least of all his own subordinates, and he had been called every moniker ever created and then some. Some were amusing, others were downright mean and vulgar, but few, aside from Thunderscream and Venomous Prime, ever used those remarks in Xedrethor's presence, and rarely in front of Gigatron.

"I trust that you didn't come all the way out here to complain about your security," Thunderscream stated.

"No, I didn't," Gigatron said, his mood turning serious now. "General, I am disturbed about the lack of progress concerning your recent missions."

Thunderscream's optics narrowed slightly, a sign of unease for him. "I'm not sure I understand to what you are referring."

"General, you have sent ten of your "Special Forces teams" out on assignments across the known galaxy. Not a single one has yet returned."

"With all due respect, my squads are spread out across the far reaches of known space. I did warn you that it might take some time to hear any word."

"So you did. However, I may be the 'Supreme Overlord' of the Empire, but I still have to answer to the Senate and they are not known for their patience."

Thunderscream emitted a short burst of static. "What does the Senate know of running the military? That bunch of energon guzzling, grease spewing hulks wouldn't know a plasma bomb if it blew up in their exhaust ports!"

"Calm yourself, General," Gigatron said. "As I told when I named you to your post, I will deal with the Senate. You just concern yourself with the running of the military."

"Forgive me, but it hard to run the military when the government isn't willing to support it. No offense, sir."

"None taken."

"And your information is a bit dated. I have just heard from two of my teams; they have successfully completed their missions and are already on their way back. The next time some senator bugs you, you can tell them that."

"I'll keep it in mind," Gigatron said. "However, they might react better if all your teams were coming home."

Thunderscream shrugged. "I can only do so much." He studied Gigatron for a moment. "I am, however, perplexed as to why you felt it necessary to come all the way out here simply to attain a status report. This is something that could have waited until I returned."

"It could have, yes. However, it gave me a convenient excuse to avoid a meeting with some of those, to borrow your idiom, 'energon guzzling, grease spewing hulks.'"

Thunderscream chuckled lightly before turning serious. "I'm sorry to cut our meeting short, but I still have an inspection to…"

At that moment, he heard movement from behind and turned to see one of the Vehicon guards running up to them. The guard stopped and saluted, which Thunderscream returned.

"Forgive the intrusion General, my lord," the Vehicon said. "But Frontier Station 12A has just detected a _Sideburn_-class light cruiser approaching the boarder."  
"_Sideburn_-class?" Thunderscream inquired, perplexed. "That's the new type of Cybertron cruiser. Designation?"

"The serial numbers don't register in any of our databanks, sir. The commander believes it is a new vessel."

"What would a cruiser be doing so close to the border?" Gigatron inquired.

"The Autobots and Maximals routinely been send warships towards our starbases and space stations to test our reaction time and draw out our warships," Thunderscream explained. "This is the first time I've heard of them using one of their new ships." He turned back to the Vehicon. "Has there been any contact with the ship's crew?"

"Yes, sir. They're requesting permission to enter Destron space."

"For what purpose?" Gigatron demanded.

"They want to come home, sir," the Vehicon replied. Gigatron stared at Thunderscream, who seemed to understand the statement.

"General?"

"One moment, sir. Corporal, has the station received the countersign?"  
"Yes, sir, countersign has been requested, received, and confirmed."

"Contact the station commander and tell him to let them through. Then contact Central Flight Control, have that ship diverted to the nearest available spaceport, and relay the coordinates to my aides."

"Confirmed, sir," the Vehicon said. "I shall relay your orders immediately." With that, he glided off back towards the others.

Gigatron continued to stare at Thunderscream in confusion, saying "With all due respect General, I am not used to being out of the loop. What the slag just happened?"

"Pardon my impertinence, sir, but Frontier Station 12A is where the Eisen Dragoons were to re-enter Destron space. Before he left, Lieutenant Archanubis developed a code with which he was to use upon his return, a code that he, myself, and certain members of the station's personnel were privy too. You may tell the Senate that we now have _three_ teams who on their way back."

"Depends on how successful they were," Gigatron said in a neutral tone.

"I would consider the fact that they have returned at all a success," Thunderscream said. "The Dragoons had the toughest assignment of all, right in the heart of Cybertron itself. If you'll excuse me, sir, I should like to welcome our first team home."

Gigatron nodded and watch Thunderscream turn and head back to his aides.

* * *

Kyyrik watched in silence as Thunderscream came back towards him, followed by his guards. The general's aides were talking among themselves in whispers, obviously excited about something. The general was approaching with a quick gait, as if in a hurry.

_I wonder what's going on_, he wondered.

Thunderscream approached Kyyrik and said, "Colonel, I'm afraid I'll have to postpone the inspection until another time. It appears that my schedule is a little more eventful than was expected."

Kyyrik nodded, knowing that when Thunderscream returned, it would be with little notice. "As you wish, General."

Thunderscream nodded and turned to his aides. "Do we know where that ship's been sent yet?"

"We received the information just moments ago, sir," one of the aides replied. "They'll be arriving at the Nuada Docks in a little over a mega-cycle."

"Good. It'll take that long to get there. Prepare to move out on my command."

Kyyrik stepped forward and asked, "General, may I inquire as to what the situation is?"

Thunderscream simply stared at him and said, "Some of your brethren are coming home, Colonel." He turned away and transformed into a Su-37 "Super Flanker" fighter, ordering, "Transform and move out."

His aides obeyed, transforming into aircraft themselves, and followed him skyward.


	8. Return

Thunderscream and his aides flew into space and towards the Nuada Docks, a space station high in orbit above Destron. It was a massive construct with a domed top, spires and antennae extending towards the planet, and long struts in the middle jutting outward into space. The station was lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve while shuttles, starships, and Transformers hustled about like ants around a dirt mound. It was, in essence, a city in space and it had taken the group nearly a mega-cycle to reach the station. They flew in close to the docking ports, located just below the dome.

"Ugh," an aide groaned. "This place is a wreck. Why do we just build a whole new station and toss this one into the vortex?"

"If you think you can convince the Senate to commit the resources, go ahead," Thunderscream said. "This station is owned and operated by the civilian authority; the military just leases its spaces, so quite gripping. Which hanger are the Dragoons supposed to be landing?"

"Hanger 7C," an aide responded. "About a hundred meters ahead and twenty meters down."

"Confirmed," Thunderscream acknowledged and dove sharply. Cruising along, he glanced at the numbers of each hanger they passed, but he soon realized that it was unnecessary. He saw a ship being brought into one of the docks and could see by its lines that it wasn't of Decepticon origin – and not a commercial craft. "This way," he ordered and sped up slightly.

Thunderscream and his aides reached the hanger just as the cruiser settled in its berth. They transformed and landed on the deck and walked towards the vessel. One of the technicians noticed them, froze, and saluted. "Sir!" he exclaimed. "We weren't expecting you."

Thunderscream returned the salute as he headed for the ship. "Quite alright, corporal. I heard that some of our comrades were returning from a mission and came to welcome them."

"Of course, sir."

Thunderscream nodded and stopped a short distance to admire the cruiser a bit. He had never seen a _Sideburn_-class light cruiser up close before; he'd only seen holo-images provided by Destron Intelligence. He noted the name engraved on the bow: _Silverstreak_.

With a hiss of escaping gases, a hatch opened on the cruiser's underside. Thunderscream turned towards the sound and saw a ramp being lowered from the vessel. As the ramp slowly descended, he could make out a set of shadows moving within the ship itself, either moving towards the exit or readying themselves to disembark. He could also hear the faint sounds of footsteps and voices within.

The cruiser's occupants disembarked the moment the hatch touched the deck. Thunderscream watched from his position as Archanubis and the rest of his team descended from the crew and headed towards him. Even from here, he could see that the Dragoons' mission hadn't been completely uneventful. Every member of the team had sustained damage and they were all covered in score marks, burnt metal, holes, and exposed circuitry. One of Archanubis arms seemed to be hanging limply from his shoulder and there was barely anything left of his wings. His second, Northclaw if Thunderscream remembered correctly, seemed to be the least damaged of the team, but he had lost one of his drills, apparently shot off in whatever engagement the Dragoons had been in.

The team stopped a short distance away from Thunderscream and stood at attention. Archanubis saluted and said, "Eisen Dragoons reporting in and requesting permission to come aboard, sir."

Thunderscream returned the salute, saying, "Permission granted, Lieutenant. And welcome home."

"Thank you, sir. It's good to be home."

"I'm certain the sentiment is mutual." Thunderscream, his aides, and the Dragoons all turned to see Gigatron and his guards standing at the entrance into the hanger.

"Lord Gigatron!" Wingshadow exclaimed, stiffening even more than he already was. The rest of the team – save Archanubis and Northclaw – did likewise. "This is an unexpected honor!"

"For you, I'm certain," Gigatron replied. "However, I am merely here to satisfy my own curiosity."

"I presume you followed me from the surface," Thunderscream said, hardly surprised by his presence.

"But of course, General. How else would I have found this place?"

"Contact Docking Control?" Northclaw replied blandly. Gigatron said nothing, but continued grinning smugly.

Thunderscream turned his attention back to the task at hand. "How went your mission, Lieutenant?"

Archanubis turned towards his Dragoons. "Novacula…"

Novacula nodded, transformed, and opened the compartment hatches on his tail. Archanubis pointed to Sting Claw, who moved over to Novacula and extracted a glowing tube from one of his compartments. He turned and carefully carried the cylinder over to Thunderscream.

Gigatron approached, trying to get a better look. "A spark," he said, obviously impressed.

"Courtesy of the Iacon Detention Facility on Cybertron," Archanubis said. "We were able to recover all five sparks you specified, General."

"And the schematics?" Thunderscream inquired.

"Unfortunately, we were forced to leave rather quickly and were unable to attain that data. I'm afraid that we currently have no means of reconstructing their previous superstructures."

Thunderscream gingerly took the canister from Sting Claw and cradled in his hands. "I don't believe that will be an issue," he said, the circuits in his processor already buzzing. "We can always construct new forms."

Gigatron had moved away to take a closer look at the Autobot cruiser. Listening to the conversation behind him, he said, "Not to mention that the Dragoons have provided our engineers with an excellent opportunity to discover the secrets behind the Autobots and Maximals' latest class of warship. I would say that more than makes up for the failure to attain any technical blueprints, wouldn't you agree, General?"

"With my entire spark," Thunderscream nodded. "And I am certain that there members of our engineering staff who would be quite interested in reverse engineering this craft."

"Undoubtedly," Archanubis agreed. He took the spark canister back from Thunderscream. "Do you have any further orders, sir?"

Thunderscream saw a pair of technicians and waved them over. "I want an anti-grav unit in here last mega-cycle," he ordered them. They nodded and left. Turning to the Dragoons, he said, "I want Novacula to remain here for the time being, at least until the technicians can unload his cargo. I'll have them shipped to the Engineering Corps' headquarters on Destron for storage, at least until we can construct new superstructures for them. After all, a few more solar-cycles in stasis won't hurt them, wouldn't you agree, my lord?"

Gigatron nodded silently.

Thunderscream turned back to the Dragoons. "As for the rest of you, report to maintenance immediately; you all look like a walking scrap yard."

"We don't look _that_ bad," Wingshadow said. Thunderscream scrutinized him with skepticism. The young jet looked even worse for wear than the others – which was typical for Wingshadow.

"With your permission, sir," Northclaw said, addressing Archanubis, "I'd like to remain here, at least until the sparks are unloaded. I did not sustain as much damage as the rest of the team, and thus my repairs can wait."

Archanubis glanced at Thunderscream. "If you have no objections, General…"

"None. However, I'm surprised that you don't trust your commander to handle this."

"The General I trust," Northclaw replied. "It's 'Mad Novacula' here I'd like to keep an eye on."

"Hey!"

"Permission granted," Archanubis said. "Report to the CR Center as soon as you're done. Both of you."

"Yes, sir," was the response.

Archanubis turned and saluted to Thunderscream, "With your permission, sir." Thunderscream returned the salute silently, but he didn't need to say a word. Archanubis nodded towards Gigatron, turned, and said to his troops, "Dismissed."

The Eisen Dragoons said nothing as they dispersed, most following Archanubis out of the hanger. Thunderscream turned to see the technicians returning with the anti-grav unit he had ordered as Gigatron walked up behind him to observe.

"Well, General, I must admit to having oil on my face. I didn't think any of your teams could actually pull off any of their missions."

Thunderscream didn't look at him. "I'm sure there are a few Senators who felt the same way. However, I have faith in my soldiers and their abilities." He noticed Sting Claw and Wingshadow returning. "I wonder what they want; they don't look like they've been to maintenance yet."

Northclaw turned to look. "Knowing Wingshadow, he's probably here to boast about his 'accomplishments.'"

"Forgive my intrusion General, my lord," Sting Claw said, "but I forgot that I had brought a small gift."

"A gift?" Thunderscream inquired, glancing at Gigatron. "For whom?"

"Both of you, actually," Sting Claw said, holding out a pincer. Thunderscream and Gigatron held out their hands and received small metal objects. Looking closely, Thunderscream could see they were parts of some kind.

"I originally figured that they would make perfect souvenirs for the general," Sting Claw was saying. "But since Lord Gigatron is also present, I thought he would like them as well."

Gigatron was studying the parts in his hand intently. "What are they?"

Sting Claw's optics seemed to gleam with amusement. "Transwarp drive parts. I 'liberated' them from the engines of a starrunner that we stranded an Autobot boarding party aboard."

Gigatron and Thunderscream exchanged a look. "I believe this is an instance where ignorance is bliss," Gigatron said. "Wouldn't you agree, General?"

"Absolutely," Thunderscream replied, tucking his "gift" away in a compartment in his superstructure. "Thank you, Sting Claw."

"You're welcome, sir." He saluted, saying, "Now if you'll excuse me." Thunderscream returned the salute and Sting Claw left.

It was at this point that Wingshadow moved up. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "But may I ask a question, just out of curiosity?"

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"I was wondering just who these sparks belong to. After all, we basically risked our superstructures to spring them…" Thunderscream heard Novacula mutter something he couldn't understand. "So do we not deserve to know who they are?"

"Archanubis didn't tell you?" Thunderscream inquired.

"No sir," Wingshadow said. "Sting Claw's probably the only other one who knows, but he's not talking, either."

Thunderscream saw Northclaw turning away, seemingly more interested in the activity behind him than the conversation. But the general saw the look in the dinocon's optics just before he turned. _So, there's another member of the Dragoons who knows, or at least has his suspicions. Not that _he's_ the most talkative among them…_

To Wingshadow, he said, "Just think of it this way; you've helped me fulfill a promise I made a long time ago."

"Ah," Wingshadow said. Then his mouth twisted into a puzzled grimace. "Wha…?"

"Never mind, Lieutenant, you have other concerns at the moment. Report to maintenance post haste; you look like you're going to fall apart at the seams at any moment."

"But sir…"

"Lieutenant, get your metal carcass to the Restoration Tank or by Primus I will _drag _you there myself," Northclaw ordered, glaring at Wingshadow.

Wingshadow knew better than to argue with him. "Right away," he said before bolting from the hanger.

"Thank you," Thunderscream nodded.

"Eh, no problem," the dinocon responded before turning back to the task at hand. "Wingshadow may talk big, but he's really a big pushover."


	9. The Palace

**The Palace**

Thunderscream flew fast and low in vehicle mode over the dusty streets of the capital city, his bodyguards following close behind. He barely noticed the terrain below as he passed, intent instead on his destination.

The past few solar cycles had been a busy time for him. Aside from his usual duties, he was going over mission reports of his Special Forces units. Since the return of the Eisen Dragoons, four more teams had reported back with successful missions. There was still no word from the remaining three, and though he knew their missions had taken them to the far reaches of Transformers space, he was considering sending a search party to find them.

Even with the remaining teams unaccounted for, the unprecedented success of the others had silenced most of his critics in the Destron Senate. Thunderscream took particular pride that the Dragoons' accomplishment – arguably the most difficult of them all – had severely embarrassed his most vocal detractors, though there were those who were trying to find some fault. Of course, he hadn't divulged all the details of the Dragoons' mission; he knew legislators couldn't resist blabbing to journalists. Cybertron would learn who had been behind the breakout in time, but for now, it was more amusing to let speculation run wild

If the results of the missions were enough to lift his spirits, then recent reports from the border patrols has made him ecstatic. The inattentiveness of his predecessor had left the frontier vulnerable to raids by privateers hired by Destron's neighbors who were eager enrich themselves at the expense of Gigatron's empire. Thunderscream's efforts to reinforce and upgrade the border outposts had paid off immensely; piracy was down nearly ninety percent. Thunderscream snickered quietly; if that didn't convince the Senate to invest more resources into the military, he didn't know what would.

He turned his thoughts back to the present and the reason he was flying out here. Gigatron had called a conference and Thunderscream's presence was required. He had no idea who else would be there, but he knew what subject the meeting would broach and had downloaded the information he knew he would need.

Thunderscream noticed a low slung building resembling a Mayan pyramid off to his right, located in the center of a small park at the heart of the capital. He banked towards it, recognizing it the Central Palace. It had been constructed to be a place of both work and residence for the ruler of the Destron Empire, but Gigatron only used it to conduct official business, preferring to use a small bungalow outside the city as his residence.

The palace was the tallest building in the capital, but not by very much. Few structures on Destron were much taller than a five-story building; the high spires and columns common to city planets like Cybertron and Charr were absent here. Most were dome-shaped and constructed so that the main chambers were buried deep underground, not too dissimilar to a termite mound. They had to be built this way; Destron's high-powered winds could easily reach four times the strength of Earth's strongest tornado, easily strong enough to level any skyscraper. The unique construction of Destron's buildings ensured that these gusts couldn't simply tear it from its foundation.

As Thunderscream and his guards transformed and landed outside the palace's main entrance, they could see a massive red wall on the horizon. It was a dust storm of massive proportions, kicked up and driven by the hurricane-force winds. Thunderscream knew how powerful such storms could be; Transformers the size of Trypticon could be lifted and tossed as if they were constructed of balsa wood. The winds could also force the fine red dust of Destron into any crack or crevice; he'd seen the damage caused to the internal workings of Decepticons unfortunate enough to get caught in a dust devil.

"Looks likes there's quite a storm out there," one of his guards observed.

"It's heading to the northeast," the other guard said. "There shouldn't be any concern."

"Perhaps not with the weather," Thunderscream said. "But Gigatron isn't known to tolerate tardiness. Let's go." He led his escort into the palace.

The Decepticons entered into a long, brightly lit corridor lined with flags and marble sculptures that were as tall as Sentinel robots. The main corridor of the palace was known as the "Hall of Heroes" and the statues represented the greatest generals and leaders of the old Cybertronian Empire. Thunderscream strode down the hallway, glancing at the monuments as he passed, noting several empty podiums scattered along the walkway. This had been by design, an attempt to leave room for future warriors and leaders. There was one leader missing from the collection: Gigatron; he wouldn't allow any monument to his honor so long as he functioned, preferring instead to let history decide where his place was. The Senate had the power to override him, but thus far, they hadn't – not for a lack of trying.

As he made his way down the corridor, Thunderscream saw a small crew of technicians working near one of the statues. Curious, he moved towards them, wondering what they were up to. He noticed they all had large tanks strapped to their backs and were spraying a fluid along the base. One of the techs noticed him approaching and waved cheerily.

"Good morning, General!"

Thunderscream nodded. "Hello, Scavendrill. I see you've been keeping busy."

Scavendrill smiled slightly. He was thickly built Decepticon, slightly shorter than Thunderscream, yellow-green in color with a silver faceplate and a black visor over his optic sensors. His abilities in construction and maintenance were well known; it was said he could build the strongest fortresses from nothing but scrap metal, repair any damage no matter how severe, and even get machinery working better than what regulations required.

"If there's work to be done," Scavendrill said, "I'm there. They couldn't stop me if they tied me down with deuterium."

"What are you up?"

"We're replacing the old steel fittings on some of the monuments with electrum. Some of the old bolts have come under attack from an infestation of scraplets, so we're spraying down everything with a mixture of hydrogen dioxide and sodium chloride before we replace the fittings."

Thunderscream looked at Scavendrill with a thoughtful look. "So you're using sea water," he said matter-of-factly.

Scavendrill shrugged slightly. "Works better than plain. The little spawns of Unicron shrivel up and expire faster than slugs on a salt flat."

"And the electrum?" Thunderscream asked.

"More resistant," Scavendrill answered. "Little buggers don't seem to like any metals above neutronium. And aside from adamantium and deuterium, electrum's the strongest alloy in the known galaxy."

Thunderscream glanced at the base of the closest monument, asking, "Should we be worried about a break out on Destron?"

"I wouldn't be too concerned," Scavendrill said. He thumped his chest lightly. "We're built out of more durable alloys than what our ancestors were constructed with. Things like scraplets and cosmic rust aren't really a threat anymore, though reports of either do require some investigation. Though I'm not telling Xedrethor anything – that defective idiot would quarantine the whole slagging system if he heard about this."

"And Gigatron would overrule him," Thunderscream said. "I suggest you do submit a report to your immediate superior about this; Gigatron wouldn't be too pleased if a scraplet infestation went unreported."

"Who do you think ordered the repairs?" Scavendrill inquired. "If you'll excuse me, General, I do have to get back to work. We have other fittings to check before this solar-cycle's done."

"By all means, don't let me interfere," Thunderscream responded. Checking his internal chronometer, he said, "I need to get going myself."

"Later," Scavendrill said, tipping an imaginary hat. Thunderscream only nodded before heading down the hall.

Thunderscream continued walking down the Hall of Heroes until he came upon the entrance into a smaller corridor on his right. He turned down the smaller hall and continued on until he came to a large set of doors located at the end. Turning to his guards and said, "Wait here," before moving towards the doors. They slid open automatically as he approached and closed once he was through. He found himself in a large room with a large semi-circular desk in the center, outside another set of double doors. A single Predacon was seated at the desk reading something on the terminal in front of him. The room had few decorations, had a few simple chairs for guests to sit in while they wait, as well as a short tables where a few data pads were stacked – as sterile as the inside of a nuclear reactor.

This was the reception area for Gigatron's office, located behind the second pair of doors, where he spent most of his time whenever he was in the palace; that or the conference room down the hall. Thunderscream couldn't recall a time when he had met with Gigatron in the throne room. Then again, the memory might have been buried somewhere in the portion of his processors the mechanics hadn't been able to fix.

Thunderscream walked up to the reception desk and asked, "Excuse me, is Gigatron in his office?"

The Predacon looked up at him with an expression that suggested he thought the general wasn't worth the time. "He's in a meeting," he said curtly.

"In his office?" Thunderscream asked politely.

"He's _in_ a _meeting_," the Predacon repeated. Thunderscream's optics narrowed; he wasn't about to take this kind of attitude from a unit that had proven to be of no other use.

"Rude little meat bags, isn't he?" Thunderscream turned towards the source of the voice and saw a black and dark gray colored Decepticon standing near the doors into the reception area. It was slightly taller than Thunderscream, even considering the latter's crest, and possessed organic parts, though not to the degree of the new "trans-organic" units Archanubis mentioned. The 'con bore a large bird's head on one shoulder, the hindquarters of some sort of feline on the other, a set of large black feathered wings, and the talons of a bird-of-prey on its feet. A pair of bright red glowed like a set of beacons over a dark grey mouth plate set in a black head.

Thunderscream nodded, saying in a neutral tone, "Hello, Venomous."

Venomous Prime nodded slightly; if he had a mouth, it'd probably be curled into a sly smirk. Venomous was the head of intelligence in the Destron Empire and had served as a spy for Gigatron long before Thunderscream was recruited. He was also the leader of a small group of Transformers known as the Disciples of Unicron, well known for their aptitude in infiltration and assassination and based on the Destron's forested sister moon Mu. He had been one of the first warlords to join Gigatron's campaign to reunite the remains of the Cybertronian Empire; that such a feat had been done without violence was either a tribute to the latter's skill as a negotiator or the former's sense of the practical. There were also rumors that Venomous carried a Matrix with a part of Unicron's essence within him, though the rumors were unsubstantiated.

Although Venomous Prime was one of Gigatron's top advisors, Thunderscream didn't trust him, and knew he wasn't alone in his opinion. Venomous exuded the personality of someone who was acting out a holo-play of his own creation. He was charismatic and manipulative, both excellent qualities that could serve a spy well, but those attributes weren't didn't exactly inspire anyone's confidence. If that wasn't enough, it well known fact that Venomous also worked as an agent for Neo Kaon and reported directly to that Decepticon world's chief warlord. Only Venomous himself – and possibly Gigatron – knew exactly where his true loyalties lay, though Thunderscream had his suspicions.

He was just glad that this devious Transformer wasn't Gigatron's _only_ source of intelligence.

As Venomous approached, he said, "These Predacons believe that they are entitled to special treatment as they are our 'successors' to the Old Cause. This has made them a bit… difficult to work with at times."

"Some of them are not so egocentric," Thunderscream said. "In fact, it's been my experience that most of them make good soldiers. Of course, there aren't many Predacons in the empire, and your experiences may be different than my own."

Venomous stopped a few decimeters distance from Thunderscream, nodding thoughtfully. "Perhaps," he said. "However, I think this Predacon is giving you the cold shoulder."

"That much is obvious."

"To answer your question, Gigatron is indeed in his office."

"The crankshaft here tell you that?"

Venomous made a slight noise that sounded like electronic static. "Trying to get information out of that unit is like trying to squeeze oil from crystalline ore. Actually, I was in here earlier talking with Gigatron when he got a call from our embassy on Neo Kaon."

Thunderscream arched an optic slightly. Venomous was usually reliable with his information, but he remembered an old quote from his younger days: _"Deception works better when sprinkled with hints of truth."_

"You know what the call was about?"

Venomous shrugged. "I haven't been back to headquarters yet to find out. I do have my suspicions, though."

"And they are?" Thunderscream inquired, crossing his arms in front of him.

"I have no confirmation of this," Venomous said. "But it may have something with Colonel Baal's recent success along the border."

"According to the initial reports, Baal captured some pirates trying to smuggle valuable ore across the border near the Lycek Sector. I don't see how that pertains to the Decepticons on Neo Kaon."

"You mean he didn't tell you whom he captured?"

"Is there a reason he should have?"

Venomous looked at Thunderscream incredulously. "I would think so, considering he has supposedly captured a celebrity."  
Thunderscream shrugged. "Baal's not exactly the most boastful of my commanders. His reports rarely mention participants; just events."

"Well, according to what I've heard," Venomous said, "the commander of the smugglers was Omega Destroyer."

Thunderscream angled his head slightly. "Don't believe I'm familiar with that designation."

"He's the second in command for the Tactical Division," Venomous said. When Thunderscream gave him a blank look, he added, "Edgecrusher's command."

Recognition flashed in Thunderscream's optics. "Ah, I see now. Yes, that would be an interesting catch. It could certainly warrant a call from the ambassador. If true, no doubt this debacle would have Dynamax, forgive the expression, seeing red."

"Dynamax has been a little short tempered as of late, anyway," Venomous said. "It's said that the smallest of setbacks touches off an explosion from him. And Edgecrusher hasn't _exactly_ been on his _good_ side as of late."

"And you would know this because…"

Venomous' optics gleamed with apparent glee. "It's my job to know these things. Though I admit to being a bit astonished that Baal was able to catch OD. According to my spies, he's not the easiest unit to beat."

"Baal may have a few circuits crossed in his processor," Thunderscream said, "but he's good at carrying out whatever task is placed before him. And it doesn't hurt that he's in command of one of our new stealth destroyers."

"You know, I've never seen one of those ships," Venomous said thoughtfully.

"You're not supposed to," Thunderscream said, his optics narrowing into slits.

"Well said, General," a new voice said. Thunderscream and Venomous turned towards the sound and saw another Decepticon entering the room. He was tall and thinly built, painted with a combination of white and a shade of violet so deep that it was almost black. Like Venomous, the legs of his robot mode bore a resemblance to those of a bird of prey, but his organic parts were more reptilian in nature. He bore a pair of bat-like wings on his back, each tipped with three fingers on the wrists, and his right arm consisted of a dragon's head and neck. His head was as narrow as his form and his faceplate was twisted into a disapproving scowl.

Thunderscream groaned and lowered his head into his hand. "Oh, just great. The protoform nurse has arrived."

"That's Chief of Security protoform nurse to you, _General_," the Decepticon said testily.

"Ah, yes, silly me," Thunderscream said blandly.

If he didn't trust Venomous Prime, he absolutely despised Xedrethor, the head of Destron's internal security. He had a reputation of being an overbearing micromanager and extremely paranoid, neither of which earned him many friends. He'd been with Gigatron since the very beginning and many believed it that his experiences since that time had contributed to his behavior. He didn't trust anyone he considered an "outsider" and rarely bothered to hide it, even in front of Gigatron; Thunderscream and Venomous Prime were targets of his intolerance on more than one occasion.

Xedrethor was joined by a pair of massive beasts that hovered on either side of him; in relative scale, they were to Transformers what a Great Dane would be to the average human. They were a sand color; bore the muzzles of dogs, the stance and gait of a leopard, the teeth of a _Smilodon_, and the rough skin of a reptile. Thunderscream and Venomous both regretted possessing olfactory sensors; the creatures had the combined scent of used oil and rotten eggs, while saliva dripped freely from their jaws, pooling into small puddles on the floor. Thunderscream always found himself amazed that these animals could survive on Destron, until he remembered that they breathed carbon-dioxide like a plant.

"I wasn't asking the general to show me a picture," Venomous told Xedrethor. "I merely stated a fact."

"You were fishing," Xedrethor said darkly. "It is not your place to know what ships are in development or service with our military forces. You don't see me requesting information on Thunderscream's activities, do you?"

Thunderscream stifled a sarcastic guffaw.

"No," Venomous said. "Generally, your messages to the military consist of 'For Primus sake, do something!' I'm sure the general is buried up to his optics in your requests."

Thunderscream took a step back from the others; an indication that he had no intent on joining the argument that he knew was coming. Venomous loved to bait Xedrethor, usually standing back, arms crossed with satisfaction whenever he reduced the dragon-con into a full blown explosion.

But Venomous was right on one thing; Thunderscream's office was often flooded with requests from Internal Security whenever there was the slightest hint of danger to the empire, even to Gigatron himself. With every request, he had to devote resources to pin down Xedrethor's "ghosts", resources that could haven been put to better use. Though he knew Gigatron liked Xedrethor, perhaps even considered him a favorite, Thunderscream had sent him a letter of complaint. He had no idea if anything had been done, but he had sent it not that long ago, so he could be patient.

"You should concern yourself _less_ with our internal workings and _more_ with the workings of our enemies," Xedrethor was telling Venomous.

"In case you have forgotten, intelligence is my business, whether it is internal or external. You yourself have pointed out that some of the Empire's enemies reside among us."

"And I don't have to look too far to see who those are."

"Entertaining another one of your unsubstantiated theories again, Xedrethor?"

Xedrethor's expression twisted into barely contained rage. "It's not paranoia to suspect someone who has never so much as taken an oath of allegiance to Destron."

"And yet you still question _my_ loyalty," Thunderscream said. "Even though I have taken the oath."

Xedrethor glared at him. "A Decepticon in your position is _always_ suspect, Thunderscream. After all, Starscream was second to Megatron."

"As Cyclonus was to Galvatron," Thunderscream pointed out, but he knew it was to no avail. Once Xedrethor set his mind on a theory, it was nearly impossible to convince him otherwise. The best way to deal with him was to ignore his delusions and focus on whatever task was at hand – which was not always the easiest thing to do around him.

"You just don't like Thunderscream because he's from Hylion Prime, not Destron," Venomous said. "How positively like an _Autobot_."

Now Xedrethor exploded. "How _dare_ you insinuate that! I have supported Gigatron and his cause long before your sparks were even ignited! I would have protected him with my life back them and I will continue to protect him and the empire he has built so long as my spark ebbs with power!"

Thunderscream heard a sound behind him and glanced to see Gigatron exiting his office. The Destron leader stopped just outside the door, which hissed closed behind him, and stood a moment, listening to the tirade. Venomous noticed his presence as well, but Xedrethor did not, and continued his rant.

"… The security of the empire is my business! I protect this empire from those who would seek to destroy it…"

"You mean your _organization_ protects the empire from the criminal element," Gigatron corrected.

Xedrethor whirled around and finally realized saw him. "My liege!" he exclaimed, bowing extravagantly. "Forgive me, I did not know you where there."

Gigatron stared at him with no expression. "I have told you before; the military is responsible for dealing with threats from foreign armies and rebellions. Your organization is in charge of dealing with those who break the laws of this state."

"Of course, my liege," Xedrethor said, bowing again. "Forgive my impertinence."

Gigatron said nothing, glancing first at Venomous, then to Thunderscream. "I see everyone is present," he stated.

"Well, we all know how much of a stickler for punctuality you are," Venomous said rather glibly.

Gigatron smiled slightly. "Of course. I apologize for my own delay; our ambassador on Neo Kaon seems to have become the whipping unit for Dynamax today."

"Any particular reason?" Venomous inquired, flashing a knowing gaze at Thunderscream, who ignored him.

Gigatron shrugged lightly. "The ambassador didn't elaborate. For all I know, Dynamax was activated on the wrong side of his charging station this morning."

"He will submit a report, won't he?" Xedrethor inquired.

"_She_ will, yes," Gigatron said. "In the meantime, we have more affairs closer to home to deal with. I do believe I have a conference scheduled?

"Of course, sir," was the response.

"Very good." Gigatron walked past the others, indicating that they follow. They did and the group walked out of the reception area. As they walked towards the conference room, Gigatron looked down and noticed the beasts at Xedrethor's heals.

"Xedrethor, I would appreciate that in the future, you leave your pets at home."

"I have tried, my liege, but they simply will not obey."

Gigatron was unsympathetic. "Then lock them in a kennel or something. I am not against keeping animals – or whatever those things are – but I will not tolerate their owners dragging them along when they're supposed to be _working_."

"Understood, my liege."


	10. Black Projects

After leaving Xedrethor's pets back at the reception area, the quartet walked a short distance to the conference room down the hall. It was a small room, large enough to fit at least four more average sized Transformers comfortably, with a semi-oval table in the center around which six chairs. Gigatron moved to one end of the table and offered Thunderscream the seat on his left. Xedrethor immediately sauntered over to Gigatron's right, as if racing Venomous to the spot. For his part, Venomous either didn't notice or didn't care as he moved to a seat next to Thunderscream.

"Before we begin," Gigatron said, "I must stress that nothing discussed at this meeting is to be discussed outside this room. Under no circumstances are you to talk about the contents to anyone; not to your subordinates, your friends, or even your closest relations. The Senate doesn't even know about this, and all information pertaining to this subject is classified under the strictest secrecy. Do I make myself clear?"

There were nods all around.

"Excellent," Gigatron said. "You may be seated." As everyone sat down, he added, "I will allow you some leeway on this, General, as this matter concerns your department."

Thunderscream nodded silently.

Gigatron leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him. "Now, General, I understand from your last report that you wish to terminate Project Dark Light."

Thunderscream nodded. "That is correct. In the opinions of the engineers who were assigned, the program manager, and myself, and considering recent events, to continue with the project would be a pointless use of resources."

"That's an unusual statement to be coming from you, especially since you fought so hard to get this program started in the first place."

"That was before the arrival of a certain new weapon system. I have placed the project on hiatus for the time being, pending further development."

"Pardon my ignorance," Xedrethor said, his expression etched with confusion. "But what is Project Dark Light?"

Thunderscream glanced at Gigatron, who nodded approvingly. "Project Dark Light," he explained, "is a program that was commissioned to develop, research, and possibly improve on the black hole tap weapon system."

Xedrethor cocked his head, bewildered. "Black hole tap? I've never heard of that."

"Perhaps because it doesn't concern your department," Venomous offered smugly. Xedrethor shot him a burning glare.

"Don't feel too embarrassed, old friend," Gigatron said. "There aren't many who remember what it was; not that it was used that widely anyway."

"What was it?" Xedrethor inquired.

"The black hole tap system," Thunderscream explained, "was part of the old fusion cannon technology used by the Decepticon commanders Megatron and Galvatron during the Great War. It allowed the user to augment the power of their weapon by tapping into a black hole through an interdimensional link and drawing on the antimatter within as a power source. The damaged caused by a single shot was quite devastating."

"Gigatron mentioned it wasn't widely used," Xedrethor said. "If it was such a devastating weapon, why weren't more arsenals equipped with it? And why isn't still in use?"

"The program was commissioned in part to discover the reason," Thunderscream stated. "For a system that possessed that much power, there aren't many instances of its use in the historical record. From what we've been able to discover through our own files and Venomous' intelligence, Megatron rarely used it and there is no known record of Galvatron ever doing so. There's also the mystery why no there's no record of the Autobots developing and using this weapon, even though we're fairly certain they obtained the schematics at some point."

"Your engineers discovered why, did they not?" Gigatron said.

"Affirmative," Thunderscream said. "Using the B.H.T. system even for a short time generates an enormous strain on the internal hardware of any unit equipped with it; prolonged use will fuse internal circuitry, and in some cases, even cause an overload. We lost several test drones in that manner. True, a drone's a long way from a fully functional Decepticon or Autobot, but given the historical data, we can safely presume that this flaw was major contributor behind the lack of use."

"You're well aware that Dynamax and his brothers are equipped with this system?" Gigatron stated. "Although they were constructed nearly five vorns ago with technology that's four million stellar cycles out of date, I'm fairly certain the technicians on Neo Kaon have improved this technology since that time."

"The engineers used the latest technology to construct this device," Thunderscream said. "I will admit that the test results may have been a bit skewered because of this and acknowledge that the Kaonites undoubtedly have more technical experience wit this weapon. However, our results and intelligence suggests that even with the latest technology, the flaw still remains."

"I feel obligated mention that the development of fusion cannons and their component systems are specifically banned by the Treaty of Pax Cybertronia," Venomous said.

"I don't remember Destron ever signing that treaty," Gigatron said. "Nor have I heard that Neo Kaon has done so."

"Even so," Thunderscream said, "classifying this program as 'black' was perhaps a prudent precaution. I would recommend that it continued to be cataloged as such for the time being."

"I concur," Gigatron said. "Especially considering your report mentioned that the technicians began the preliminary work on improving the performance of this system. However, I believe it also made a valid point; recent events have made further effort superfluous."

"What recent events?" Xedrethor inquired.

"Northclaw," Venomous Prime stated, leaning back in his chair.

"Correct," Thunderscream nodded. "Ever since Baal picked him up over five stellar cycles ago, he's been the source of a technological bonanza. His armor's constructed from a new type of metal alloy and his shield system is the most advanced we've ever encountered. When the strength of this field was tested, it took up to five B.H.T.-equipped fusion cannons firing in unison to weaken it a mere ten percent."

Venomous arched an optic. "You're kidding."

"No," Thunderscream said. "I have the reports and video from the field tests back at my office."

"And then there are his offensive capabilities," Gigatron stated.

"I've heard rumors about that," Xedrethor said. "All I've ever seen him use are those drills on his back and a couple of beam cannons."

"We've kept his full capabilities hidden from the general public," Thunderscream said.

"What else is he armed with?" Xedrethor inquired.

"Northclaw's equipped with three very powerful and devastating weapons he refers to as 'charged particle cannons.'"

"'Charge particle cannon?'" Venomous inquired, confused.

Thunderscream glanced at Gigatron, who nodded re-assuredly. "From what my engineers have been able to tell me," he explained, "a charged particle cannon appears to be a type of fusion cannon, possessing all the destructive firepower of a B.H.T. equipped device, but without the associated stresses. It works along the same principles as the fusion cannon and B.H.T., except that it doesn't appear to tap into a black hole."

"How powerful is this weapon?" Xedrethor asked.

"We've confirmed that during his latest mission, Northclaw managed to severely damage at least six Sentinel robots and two Gestalt units, not to mention inflicting a significant amount of collateral damage."

Venomous whistled, obviously impressed, while Xedrethor's optics widened. Gigatron was hardly surprised; after all, he'd already read the report.

"How far can this thing hit a target?" Xedrethor inquired.

Thunderscream shrugged, "We're not sure. Most of the tests concentrated on performance; distance wasn't high on the list. However, Northclaw did bring reports of the weapon striking targets from a range of twelve thousand myriameters with no loss of effectiveness. These reports also tell of a ground based unit that was able to destroy large satellites in high orbit."

"And he's carrying _a trio_ of these weapons?" Xedrethor inquired in horror. "How in the Pit was he able to attain that much firepower?"

"We don't know for certain. Slag, we're still trying to determine the exact _mechanics_ behind this system," Thunderscream said.

"You mean you don't even know how the thing _works_?" Xedrethor demanded.

"_That_ was easy to figure out," Thunderscream stated. "The hard part's trying to ascertain what circuits, wiring, and other components are involved in the process. Northclaw doesn't just carry the weapon system, he _is_ the system. His entire superstructure is involved whenever he fires a shot; forgive me for saying so, but he quite literally shoots his mouth off."

"Can't you scan him while he's firing and find out?" Venomous asked.

"Tried that," Thunderscream said. "Apparently, some of the components are also involved with a few of his basic functions. The only remaining option is to put his spark into stasis, disassemble his superstructure and pick over the pieces. The only problem is that we risk completely destroying the only unit that's equipped with this system, and that's not a risk I'm willing to take at this time. Besides, I'm not certain Northclaw would allow it, and he's likely sick of all the tests we've performed."

"How can you tell?" Venomous asked. "His reaction to any situation is about as expressive as a dead computer terminal."

"If you've been poked, prodded, scanned, and had parts removed and replaced as often as he has, you'd be a little irritable as well, whether you expressed it or not."

"So there's no way to replicate his technology at this point?" Gigatron inquired.

"We can replicate his shield system," Thunderscream said. "My engineers have been able to discover how that works. Our metallurgists have also been able to isolate the elements that make up the alloy in his armor. It's the charged particle system we can't duplicate for the moment; it's the main reason that he hasn't been on that many missions."

"In other words, you don't want to send Northclaw anywhere unless it's absolutely necessary," Venomous said.

"Not until we can find a way to reverse engineer his weaponry. No sense in exposing our only trump card to the rest of the universe."

Gigatron nodded silently, his expression thoughtful. "I believe we've said all that needs to be said at the present time. Venomous, Xedrethor, you're both excused. I remind you that nothing you've heard today is to be repeated."

"Understood, my liege," Xedrethor said as he stood. Venomous only nodded slightly before following Xedrethor out the door.

* * *

Thunderscream leaned back in his seat; waiting to hear why Gigatron hadn't excused him. For the moment, the Destron leader seemed more content to sit quietly, apparently lost in thought.

Gigatron finally spoke after what seemed like a very long moment. "I didn't want to continue this subject in front of Xedrethor or Venomous Prime. I'm not always certain what Venomous chooses to pass on to Neo Kaon, and as for Xedrethor, it's really none of his business. I did want them to know what they might be dealing with, though, in the event Northclaw's operating his own agenda."

"Understood," Thunderscream said.

"You mentioned that you can't replicate the charged particle cannon system and you're not willing to risk terminating our only weapon in order to do so. I agree that it is not an acceptable option. However, have you explored any other methods?"

Thunderscream knew this question had been coming and was ready for it. "We can acquire the system from its original source."

Gigatron arched an optic. "An interesting proposal. However, although the empire has not approved the Pax Cybertronia, I doubt Cybertron would make the distinction in their reaction. And, if I recall initial report correctly, the inhabitants of planet…" He drifted off, trying to remember the name.

"Zi, sir."

"Yes, thank you. According to Baal's report, the inhabitants of planet Zi, human though they are, apparently have had little contact with the outside universe, at least since the planet was settled. I don't agree with the Maximal Imperium on many subjects, but I do agree on their policy concerning contact with any human settlements – for the time being."

"If Northclaw went undetected on that planet from the time he crashed to when was finally rescued, a brief visit of a deca-cycle or two shouldn't draw too much attention."

Gigatron looked at him pensively. "I presume you already have a mission planned?"

Thunderscream nodded. "My advisors and I have been working out the details for some time now. For a cover, the team sent in would be made up primarily of scientists and cartographers. After all, Zi is an uncharted planet in an unexplored section of our galaxy. We'd also send some engineers and a scanning squad; I doubt Northclaw's form is the only one on the entire planet. They'd also be the ones who would search for any available schematics on the charged particle weapon system, and if they're lucky, maybe even bring back the hardware itself."

"But who would be in command of such an expedition?"

"The most logical choice would be Northclaw. He's spent the most time on Zi and thus knows the terrain, the culture, and maybe even where to find a factory that manufactures his kind of hardware. I've also recalled Colonel Baal from his frontier post; he's the only one who's traveled to and from that sector, making him the logical choice to guide the team."

"You're certain that this mission can be pulled off without Cybertron, Neo Kaon, or the Tripredacus Council discovering the team's true intentions?"

"According to our most recent navigational charts," Thunderscream said, "Zi is located beyond our space, well away from any of our neighbors' territories, outposts, or patrols. I've taken the precaution to commission the use of one of our exploration ships, which would attract less attention than say a fully armed destroyer. If all goes according to plan, we should have no problems."

"I can't help but think of Murphy's Law," Gigatron said darkly. He leaned forward and brought his hands up to his mouth, thinking a moment. "You are certain this is the only viable option left?"

"Every other alternative's been explored and exhausted. I know it's a big gamble, but if the dice roll in our favor, the payoff will be well worth the risk."

Gigatron thought a moment further. "Very well, General, if you believe that Northclaw can pull off another miracle, then you have my blessing. But I suggest that you limit the number of participants; the smaller the party, the less attention we'll attracts from the neighbors."

Thunderscream stood up and said, "With your permission sir, we are already underway."


	11. The Firing Range

"That should do it. Try it now."

Northclaw nodded to the technician next to him, took careful aim at a target down the range, and fired his left beam cannon. The beam sailed through the air and struck home. He frowned slightly, unsatisfied with the results.

"The sight's still off about two degrees to the right. Let's try adjusting it again."

The technician nodded, picked up one of his tools, and began to adjust the drill on Northclaw's back. The dinocon stood absolutely still, listening to the sound of the tech working behind him.

_Happens every time someone shoots off my buster claw,_ he thought. _It takes forever to have the weapon sights realigned_.

Northclaw's repairs after his last mission had taken only a few mega-cycles to complete, but unfortunately, fixing the damage didn't necessarily mean everything was working right. This was especially true for his beam cannons; which nearly always had to be realigned whenever the drill assembly was damaged. This had been a problem for him from the very day he attained this form, and though he no longer had to depend on manual repairs, even the CR pools couldn't seem to align them properly. So here he was on the firing range, working with one of the technicians from maintenance.

"Done," the tech said after a few cycles. "Try again."

Northclaw leveled the drill at the target, charged his beam cannon, fired, and watched as the shot flew off towards its intended target. He nodded slightly, satisfied with the results.

"Much better, but it's still drifting to the right a bit," he said. "Adjust to the left by zero point zero two degrees."

"On it."

Northclaw nodded and looked down the field, keeping his processors busy. The firing range was located in an open, hilly area of Destron, with target holograms and old shot-up hulks scattered across the desert. He'd been aiming his potshots at one carcass in particular: a rusted, burned out hulk of a tractor-trailer. He had no idea how it had come to end up on the planet, but he left speculation to those who had the time – and the interest.

As he waited for the tech to complete his work, Northclaw noticed a large, triangular shadow cross over the ground. Curious, he looked up in time to see an arrow-shaped, black colored flying wing pass over his head. He watched as it turned and headed back towards his position, and he noticed the jet had no cockpit, just a saw-toothed intake in the center of the fuselage. He narrowed his optics slightly, confused. He recognized the craft as an old UCAV drone humans developed during their early twenty-first century, but he wasn't aware of any Transformers, Decepticon or otherwise, who had this alternative mode.

As the jet approached, it descended until it was less than a meter off the ground, and then transformed into a more familiar form. Northclaw arched an optic, somewhat surprised.

"Good afternoon, Archanubis. I now see the reason behind your recent long absence."

Archanubis cocked his head like an inquisitive bird and then looked down at his armor. "Ah, yes, my new form. I figured it was time for a slight change."

Northclaw studied Archanubis for a moment. The Dragoons' commander was definitely sleeker and more aerodynamic, but his basic robot form hadn't really changed. "What brought this on?"

"After I ran into Obsidian during our last mission, I thought it prudent to switch my alternate form in order to be a little less recognizable. After all, I am no longer an independent agent."

_That remains to be seen_ Northclaw thought, but he kept the thought to himself. "What are you doing out here?"

"I need to talk to you about some important issues," Archanubis said, suddenly serious. He glanced over at the technician. "In private."

Northclaw got the hint and turned around. "We can continue this later. In the meantime, why don't you go recharge yourself for a few cycles?" The technician nodded, picked up his tools, and left. Northclaw tucked his drill away and turned to Archanubis, who indicated that he follow him.

The pair walked in silence for a moment before Archanubis said, "We've added two new members to the team."

"Who?"

"I think you'll recognize them; Scavendrill and Darkwylde."

Northclaw grunted. "Scavendrill, huh? He was one of the engineers who were involved in the initial work scanning my systems when I came to Destron. It'll be nice to have a committed repairer to our team, especially one who's familiar with my unique technical needs."

"Yes it is," Archanubis agreed. "But he's still officially with the Corps of Engineers; as far as the Eisen Dragoons are concerned, it's a part time gig."

"Understood. Darkwylde is a surprise, though; I wasn't aware you were looking at him as a potential recruit."

Archanubis seemed to grimace. "I didn't get a choice. Thunderscream practically ordered me to accept him."

"Not surprising, considering his reputation. There aren't many commanders who are willing to accept him into their units."

"You've met him?"

"No, but I've heard about him, mostly from Wingshadow and Sting Claw, as well as my old friend Lohikaarme. Darkwylde's supposed to be fairly ruthless to the point of merciless. Wingshadow's not going to be happy; he was hoping that the military's policy against siblings serving in the same unit finally allowed him to escape his 'little brother'."

"It's an unofficial policy, in any case," Archanubis said. "And Wingshadow's contentment is not my concern. We will make our newest recruits feel welcome, no matter how much animosity we feel towards them."

"Of course," Northclaw said.

"I also wish to congratulate you," Archanubis said.

"For what?"

"You and I have been promoted to full lieutenant; with my commission taking effect before yours. Once again, congratulations."

Northclaw simply stared at him. "Thunderscream skipped me a rank?"

"He believed you were well qualified. Apparently, so did Gigatron and the Senate. And given the circumstances, I've put in a request to make you the official executive officer of the Eisen Dragoons."

Northclaw cocked his head slightly in curiosity. "How is Wingshadow taking all of this? He was, in effect, my senior in rank."

"I doubt he really cares," Archanubis said. "And even if it did, it wouldn't matter; the service isn't in the business of grooming a soldier's ego."

"Not since Thunderscream took over, at least" Northclaw said. "And I doubt you came out here and requested a private audience just so you can say 'well done' and notify me of some new recruits."

"No, I didn't," Archanubis said. He glanced around a moment, making sure they were alone. "Thunderscream has new orders that I didn't want to discuss in front of the others, especially considering the general has stress the utmost secrecy concerning this."

"Okay," Northclaw said patiently.

"General Thunderscream wants you to lead a small team to the planet where you were discovered," Archanubis said.

"A mission to Zi?"

"Affirmative. He's recalled Baal from the frontier in order to transport a specially selected team there, primarily composed of a small geological survey group and a few engineers to scan any new forms we may happen to come across. Officially, it's a scientific survey."

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially, the team is to acquire the schematics of a type of weapon system known to be in use on Zi. He didn't specify which system, but I don't think it would take a unit with a high memory capacity to figure out what he meant."

Northclaw shook his head slightly. "No it wouldn't – I know exactly what he's after." He turned, looked downrange, and spotted the hulk of an old Cybertronian tank. The braces on his feet came down, the drills on his back whipped around and pointed forward, and the blades spread out to their fullest extant. Energy collected in the center and was hurled out as a pair of bright white beams, striking and vaporizing the tank in an instant.

"Our military engineers have been after the secrets to my charged particle weaponry since my arrival. I'm not surprised Thunderscream is sending a team to Zi to look for blueprints. He's probably hoping we hoping we stumble on the actual hardware. Nor am I surprised by his emphasis on secrecy."

"Nor am I," Archanubis said. "We're dealing with a system whose development could be considered a violation of the peace treaty. The repercussions for Destron…"

"I'm sure Gigatron would put his own diplomatic spin on the whole thing," Northclaw said. "He somehow manages to pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat whenever the empire is in diplomatic straits."

Archanubis only nodded.

"Has the team been fully assembled yet?" Northclaw inquired.

Archanubis shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of. Baal's the only one I'm aware of at present."

"If you have no objection, I'd like to contact General Thunderscream. I would like to have some say on whose going on this mission."

"I have no problem with that. But you know Thunderscream's going to want final approval on anyone you choose."

"I've been in this service for five stellar cycles, Lieutenant," Northclaw said. "I think I know of a few Decepticons Thunderscream will approve."

Archanubis nodded. "Put together your list and submit it to Thunderscream as soon as possible, Lieutenant. I'm sure the general and Gigatron want this mission to be underway post haste."

"Yes, sir."


	12. Origin

Northclaw waited at the edge of the ship's ramp, his arms crossed, rapping his fingers, annoyance obvious on his face plate, which was a rare show of emotion from him. Several members of his team were late by nearly a mega-cycle, and his usually infinite patience was wearing thin.

Northclaw was standing underneath the lean, sleek flying wing-shaped exploration ship that had been secured for his mission. Like any good science ship, it was loaded with scanners and scientific equipment, but it was also equipped with a cloaking device, which might come in handy. In addition, Scavendrill and Necromanix were working on equipping the vessel with a device that, if successful, would aid in their success.

That was, if the last few crewmembers would hurry up so they could get off the ground.

As Northclaw stared off into the distance, a dark yellow and black Decepticon with a violet optical visor and an open-mouthed face painted onto his chest came out and strode down the ramp towards him. It was Baal, the ship's commander for the mission. "Any sign of our belated crewmates?"

Northclaw shook his head silently. Baal emitted the electronic equivalent of a sigh and took out a timepiece from under his armor. He studied it for a moment before putting it away.

"They'd better hurry," he said. "We just got a report from Central Control about a fast-moving low pressure system on a track that will take it through Delahex within the next five breems."

Northclaw knew what that meant: dust storm. "How much time will you need to implement the launch procedures?"

"About two breems, three at the most. I'll wait another two and a half breems before I call an abort."

"Thunderscream won't be happy."

"You know how dangerous it can be taking off in these storms. Given the alternative, I'd rather face Thunderscream's wrath."

Northclaw only nodded, still staring off into nothing. He knew what Baal was talking about and was aware that the only other option was to leave without the missing crewmembers. However, he needed as much assistance as he could get, so he'd have to tolerate any delay that might be required. The thought did nothing to improve his mood.

As he scanned the horizon, he saw a small plume of dust in the distance. He glanced over at Baal and said, "I thought you said that storm wasn't due for another five breems."

"It's not," Baal said. "And it's coming in from the west; you're looking towards the northeast."

Northclaw turned and took a closer look, zooming his vision in on the cloud. Baal was correct; the cloud wasn't being caused by the wind but by a pair of Cybertronian construction vehicles moving at high speed towards the ship – well, fast for what a construction vehicle was capable of. It was the belated crewmembers. Northclaw watched in silence, displaying no emotion as the tardy Decepticons approached and transformed.

"Sorry we're late," one of the Decepticons said. "We would have been here sooner, but this morning's training session ran a little long."

Northclaw said nothing as he stared at the pair without an expression. Baal finally broke the silence. "Well, if everyone's here then, let's get aboard, before that storm gets here." He turned and walked up the ramp. The other two technicians glanced at Northclaw nervously before they followed the yellow jet. Northclaw stood for a moment more looking out onto the terrain beyond the launch pad before turning and walking up the ramp into the ship.

* * *

The ship left Destron without incident and as soon as it cleared the Hylion System, it entered transwarp space. On board, Northclaw waited until the transwarp drive engaged to brief the others on their assignments in the ship's observation room. He kept the speech short, touching on subjects he had briefed them about before and adding in the mission's real intent, which he hadn't told them about, figuring it was safer to tell them once they were underway. The others sat quietly around the conference table, nodding their heads lightly, listening intently.

Sitting at the head of the conference table, Northclaw leaned back in the chair and gazed at the others sitting around. He knew Stratosphera, Sting Claw, and Scavendrill and was aware of their capabilities. Sitting next to Scavendrill was another engineer, Necromanix, who had been involved in the scans that Northclaw had suffered through upon his arrival. At the end sat Shinobi and Nightjack, both of whom he had worked with before and knew to be capable warriors. But Northclaw had other reasons for them being on this mission.

"You know our mission and its goals," Northclaw was saying. "However, as mentioned, the planet we are heading for is largely uncharted by anyone, so far as our intelligence has been determine. I doubt any one had even heard of Zi before Baal visited the planet."

"You mean before you crashed there," Nightjack said.

Northclaw ignored him. "However, we do have some information based on a few scans taken during that initial visit." He typed a command on a panel in the table, bringing up a holographic display of a blue-tan planet in the center. "This is Zi, the planet from which my alternate mode originates."

Sting Claw leaned close. "Huh; it looks like Earth."

"Looks like it, but it's not," Scavendrill said. "I studied the charts before we left, to familiarize myself with the geography. For instance, Zi's surface is nearly eighty-five percent covered by ocean and its continents are smaller than similar planets of its class."

"Correct," Northclaw stated. "But what the charts don't show is that about sixty to seventy percent of the land surface is desert, created by an ancient war that occurred centuries ago on the planet."

"Shouldn't pose a problem," Necromanix said, his hand steepled in front of his faceplate. "I doubt the soil grain is even remotely close to what we're used to on Destron. Even for those of us with intakes instead of radiators."

"Don't be so sure about that," Northclaw said. "Remember, I spent quite a few stellar cycles on the planet before my rescue, so I know what dangers the terrain can hide. I've had a few sinkholes open up under my feet without warning, so caution is advised."

There were nods all around. Satisfied, Northclaw continued, "We'll drop Stratosphera and Nightjack's teams off at about twenty-one myriameters above the surface. That should be a sufficient altitude to conduct the topographic scans without interference from any native aerial vehicles."

"The device Necromanix and I have been working on should allow us to avoid contact with the inhabitants," Scavendrill said.

"I still prefer to exercise a bit of caution. Getting back to the subject at hand, once we've dropped off the scanning teams, we'll land here." Northclaw pointed to the center of the southwestern continent, below a narrow isthmus. "We'll concentrate our searches and scans on the southern and western portions of the continent Europa. It's more sparsely populated than the northeastern section, with only a few small towns and outposts. However, this region is used heavily for Zoid competitions, so we should have plenty of scanning opportunities."

"If I may," Stratosphera said, "why not send a small party to Northeastern Europa? Three or four Decepticons could infiltrate this portion without being noticed easily. And according to your information, a more populated area might mean a better chance of finding a manufacturing plant that specializes in charge particle weaponry."

"We'd also increase our chance of being discovered," Northclaw said. "Thunderscream was adamant about maintaining our secrecy from both the human inhabitants and Cybertron, so under no circumstances are the ground teams to cross the isthmus connecting the northeast with the southwest. Am I clear?"

Everyone nodded, except Shinobi, who leaned forward and said, "What of these other continents? Certainly there are – what do you call those machines?"

"Zoids."

"There could be some unique Zoids on those continents we could scan, and perhaps more opportunities to find the equipment Thunderscream wants us to look for."

Northclaw shook his head slightly. "My experience and knowledge of Zi are limited to Europa. I know next to nothing about Nyx, Delpoi, and the southeastern continent, though you may be correct in your presumption."

"That would be our job," Nightjack said, his pride obvious.

"Precisely. And based on the information you, Stratosphera and your teams bring back, Thunderscream might consider sending future expeditions. But I'm getting ahead of myself." He turned slightly and activated the inter-ship communicator. "Baal, what's our estimated time of arrival at the Zi system?"

"Another sixteen mega-cycles," came the response. "Zi's deep in uncharted territory, and even though we left a beacon there on our last visit, navigation still has to compensate for galactic drift…"

"Thank you," Northclaw interrupted and deactivated the link. Leaning back, he said, "I'll issue your final orders once we reach Zi. Until then, I suggest you all get some rest as we're going to be working a long time with out one for awhile. Meeting adjourned; dismissed."

No one spoke as they all rose from their seats and exited the conference room.

* * *

Baal stood in the center of the bridge, hands behind his back, watching the transwarp effects dance across the viewscreen. There was something hypnotic about it and he often found himself watching the spiraling aurora for mega-cycles, occasionally broken by some small event that required his attention. Around him, the small bridge crew sat at their stations quietly, engrossed in their own duties.

The crew of his previous command had been upset when he'd been recalled to Destron. He'd been rather popular with them, though Baal himself never felt that popularity was an element crucial to being a good commander. They had been even more upset when they learned that his new command was to be an exploration ship and had voiced their objections loudly. Many of their worst words were for the one responsible for the assignment: Thunderscream. But Baal had said nothing, had perplexed his old crew by not joined with the others in denouncing the general. But he knew the reasons behind his reassignment, and he didn't need anyone to tell him otherwise. He also believed that it was temporary, that once this mission was complete, he'd be back on a warship – perhaps even the very one he'd left.

Still watching the transwarp aurora on the screen, Baal heard the sharp snap of the hatch behind him open and turned slightly to see Shinobi and Stratosphera enter. It was hardly of concern, as they had full access to the ship, but he couldn't resist greeting them. "Welcome to the bridge of the _Fractyl_."

"Thank you, Colonel," Shinobi said. Stratosphera only nodded, her long face unreadable.

"If I may be so bold,"" Baal said, "is there a particular reason that you have come here?"

Shinobi shrugged. "Just wandering the ship. My energon reserves are at optimum levels and I've got nothing better to do."

"And you?"

"Need some information on a plan I'm working on, to be implemented when Nightjack and I are dropped off," Stratosphera answered as she moved towards an unmanned console. "I'm thinking that if we depart above the geographic North Pole, we'd be able to partition our sectors more evenly and avoid scanning over each other's sectors. I still have to fine tune my equations and data before I present them to Northclaw."

Baal regarded her curiously. "You're working on something for the mission? But we won't reach Zi for another nine mega-cycles."

"Plenty of time to get in some last minute details," Stratosphera said as she typed away. "I want to make sure _my_ role goes off without a hitch. I don't plan on spending any more time on that dirt ball than is necessary and I'm certain Northclaw shares my feelings on that."

Baal nodded, understanding. Shinobi leaned back on a nearby rail and asked, "Anybody know how much time he spent on that planet before he was picked up?"

Stratosphera didn't look up from her work as she answered, "No one does. He doesn't talk about it a whole lot, not even of the battles he fought."

"You'd think an experience like his would be worth telling a few stories about."

"Not necessarily," Baal said. "I know a little more than you do about him. From what I was told when we found him, he was the only survivor of a terrible crash, though he's not been forthcoming about the cause. To loose one's friends and crewmates in that manner… must have been horrible is all I can say."

Shinobi studied him for a moment. "How _did_ you find him?"

"Indeed," Stratosphera said, looking up. "This planet is fairly distant from any of the travel lanes in this sector."

Baal shrugged. "I was a Commander back then in command of a small frigate patrolling the Tycos lanes against privateers. One solar cycle, we got hit by an interstellar plasma storm, the kind that can appear without any warning and can take you light years from where you got picked up – if you're lucky. Well, the next thing we know, we're _way _off course, drifting near an unfamiliar star system, trying contact the closest navigational post, and picking up a spark signature from one of the planets. The rest, as they say, is old data."

"What about where he came from initially?' Shinobi asked. "Does anyone know his history before Zi?"

"There are probably only three people other than Northclaw who may know that," Stratosphera said. Thinking for a moment, she added, "Venomous Prime _might_ know, but how he'd get it from a tight-lipped clap trap like Northclaw is anyone's guess."

Baal chuckled a bit, saying, "Venomous has his ways, and not all of them are direct. As for Northclaw, I'm sure he'll tell us where he comes from when he's ready."

"Yeah," Stratosphera agreed, extracting a small data crystal from a port near her console. "No sense in trying to pry information from someone who can put ya on a direct route to the Inferno in a single shot." She turned and headed for the hatch, saying, "I'd better get this data to Northclaw straight away. You'll inform us when we drop out of transwarp?"

"As soon as the order's given," Baal replied. Stratosphera nodded once and exited, followed by Shinobi, who bowed slightly as he left. With the passengers gone, Baal turned to continue his observation of the aurora on the viewscreen.


	13. A Legend From Youth

_Destron_

Archanubis leaned up against a wall in the maintenance center, his arms crossed against his chest plate, a few meters away from a pod-like structure in the center of the floor. Standing nearby was another commander of a special forces team; Methusalen, a tall, hulking Decepticon, colored primarily green with violet tiger-like stripes, gray helmet, blue faceplate, pale red optics and equipped with a large violet-colored cannon mounted over his right shoulder. He stood almost in front of the pod and was shuffling his feet nervously, wearing an expression not unlike that of a naughty protoform that had been caught with his hand in the energon goodie jar.

Methusalen wasn't tense because he had committed any sort of transgression, but rather because the contents of the pod in front of him. The "case" was actually a reconstruction chamber, used only in the most extreme cases and when there was no other option. Inside, stripped of his armor and all but the most essential circuitry, was Thunderscream. The wounds he had suffered during the Hylion Reconquest had finally caught up with him, and though his spark was still strong, his body's superstructure and internal systems were falling apart to the point of being irreversible unless he underwent the process.

Archanubis understood how Methusalen felt and shared it, though his own distress well. Reconstruction was a lengthy and extremely invasive experience that even the most sadistic Decepticon felt that it was a process that required a bit of privacy. Thunderscream didn't seem to mind though – once his memory banks had been downloaded into his new hard drive and been brought back to consciousness, he had started conducting business again as if were sitting in his office. Even so, Archanubis couldn't get the image of a torture device out of his processors as he watched all the arms, hooks, and other tools that were dancing across the general's eviscerated form.

"I see that there's been a report of a disturbance near the Ncyos system," Thunderscream was saying, reading data that was being downloaded directly into his CPU.

"Yes sir," Archanubis said. "I took the liberty of sending Irikar and Lohikaarme to the system to check it out. They should be reporting in relatively soon." He didn't add that he sent Irikar in order to give himself a reprieve from the incessant whining she was doing lately. If he hadn't, he might have ended up slugging her – and still might.

"Very good," Thunderscream said. "Has there been any further news about the uprising in the Ikyon sector? I understand things weren't going well when I was taken off-line."

"Gigatron sent in reinforcements under General Darkvampyre a few solar cycles ago," Methusalen answered. "No word yet on what effect her forces have had."

Thunderscream chuckled slightly, saying, "We'll probably hear about it when she comes in carrying the heads of the insurrection leaders. I wouldn't worry too much." He grew quiet and Archanubis couldn't be sure if he was reading something or waiting for one of them to make their own report.

He didn't get the opportunity to ask. Hearing the sound of footsteps to his right, Archanubis looked up and saw Wingshadow approaching. His optics narrowed; he had assigned the young MiG Seeker to guard the entrance along with Dark Warpath and the general's Vehicon guards. _He'd better have a good reason for leaving his post._

"Forgive my intrusion, sirs," Wingshadow said with a sharp salute. "But Lord Xedrethor's outside asking to speak with General Thunderscream immediately. He says it's rather urgent."

"With Xedrethor, everything's urgent," Methusalen said with an electronic snort. "What is it this time? Did something disturb his little pets?"

"He wasn't specific," Wingshadow said. "He just said that he needed to talk to Thunderscream as soon as possible."

Archanubis eyed Thunderscream, knowing the general wasn't fond of the security director – not that anyone he knew was. Thunderscream's faceplate was unreadable, which was typical whether no matter what condition he was in, but Archanubis saw him nod slightly.

"Might as well let him in before he makes much ado about nothing," Archanubis said.

Wingshadow grimaced slightly as he said, "With him, that's almost a guarantee. But I'll tell him to come in." He turned and left.

"And tell him to keep his pets _outside_!" Archanubis shouted after him.

Methusalen turned to Archanubis and asked, "Are you certain that's wise, Lieutenant? I mean, didn't your soldier see the condition the general's in?"

Archanubis shrugged lightly. "Probably not. With Wingshadow, it's all about completing the task and seeing the results as soon as possible. Events and objects on the peripherals escape him. That's one of the reasons he comes back from every mission in such bad shape."

"Besides," Thunderscream said, "it might be worth a listening to his latest round of slag just to see his horrified expression."

"You believe Xedrethor's going to go into a system's freeze when he sees you?" Methusalen inquired.

"Let's just say that overblown boiler starts feeling a little dizzy when he sees a minor fuel leak."

Just as Thunderscream completed his statement, Xedrethor appeared. He nodded silently to Methusalen and Archanubis, both of whom returned the gesture.

"Where's Thunderscream?" the dragon-con inquired. "I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with him."

Nobody said a word as Archanubis simply pointed to the reconstruction pod in front of them. Xedrethor turned towards it – and froze. Archanubis couldn't recall a time when he witnessed a unit, Autobot, Decepticon, Maximal or Predacon, changed colors, least of all the sickly shade Xedrethor has just turned.

After a moment, the security chief managed to regain enough of his composure to speak. "I-I-I apologize f-f-for the intrusion, General; I was told you were here, but I didn't realize…"

"Don't be put off by this scrap heap you see before you," Thunderscream said. "It will soon be put back together."

Xedrethor nodded, the look of mild horror still evident on his features. Archanubis found himself wishing he had brought his holocamera.

"Now, sir," Thunderscream said, his amusement obvious, "what was so important – at least in your mainframe – that you couldn't wait until my reconstruction was completed?"

"I require assistance," Xedrethor said.

"That much is obvious," Methusalen said. "May I suggest the mecha-shrink's office down the hall?" Archanubis tried to stifle the laugh in his vocal processors, but he wasn't entirely successful as it came out as a short burst of static.

To everyone's surprise, Xedrethor ignored the comment. "The governor of Hylion Prime contacted my office requesting assistance in a small matter that he feels is of some importance."

Archanubis angled his head slightly, his interest piqued. Hylion Prime was Thunderscream's home planet, the place where his spark had come online. He glanced at Methusalen and noticed he seemed interested in what was going on, as well.

"What small matter?" Thunderscream inquired, his tone carefully neutral.

"Apparently they are still having trouble with a small band of raiders in the sea lanes," Xedrethor answered. "Hylion Prime was known for its lawlessness before the Reconquest, but since then, most of the vagrants have been rounded up. There are still a few groups and renegades on the loose, but there's one in particular that's been a thorn in everyone's side."

"I appreciate you apprising me of the progress back home," Thunderscream said. "But I hardly see this as a matter that should concern the military. Sounds to me like a concern for the local constabularies."

"Perhaps," Xedrethor said. "But the local security forces haven't been able to so much as find him for the past few stellar cycles, and my own agents have been chasing their own exhaust for the past four deca-cycles."

"I still don't see how this is a military concern," Thunderscream reiterated.

Xedrethor looked a little uncomfortable and it didn't look like it was caused just by the general's state of disrepair. Finally, after a hesitant pause, he said, "General, Gigatron has admonished me recently for making too many demands of the departments outside my authority."

_About slaggin' time_, Archanubis thought, but he remained silent.

"General, I am here to formally… _request_ the assistance of the military in this matter," Xedrethor said. Methusalen's right optic rose slightly, but he remained quiet as the security director continued, "It has become obvious to me that my agents are woefully inadequate for the task before them."

Thunderscream noted how Xedrethor had said "request", spitting it out like it was a curse. No doubt that little discussion with Gigatron had hurt his pride, and while he wasn't on hands and knees, coming to "request" the assistance of the military must have felt almost as demeaning as begging to the dragon-con.

"Before I make a decision," Thunderscream said, "I would like to know who it was that has humbled the great and mighty Xedrethor to the point of 'requesting' assistance from someone he considers an outsider. Surely there is no one on Hylion Prime who is so capable of such an incredible feat."

Archanubis saw Xedrethor wince slightly. _So, the general's joyous sarcasm did get to him. Thunderscream's certainly enjoying this – as am I._

"The name of the renegade is Sea Wolf," Xedrethor answered after a long pause.

It was not a name that Archanubis recognized, but he noticed a flash of familiarization in Thunderscream's optics. "Ah, now I see," the general said. "Yes, he would be a problem for your agents."

"You know him?" Methusalen inquired.

"I'm familiar with his reputation," Thunderscream said. "He was quite active during my earlier stellar cycles on Hylion Prime and considered something of a local hero."

"Then you wouldn't mind bringing the out-of-towners who aren't as familiar with his standing," Archanubis said.

Thunderscream glanced at him, slightly surprise. "You shock me, Archanubis. I would have thought you of all people would be familiar with Sea Wolf's reputation, especially considering your former occupation."

Archanubis shrugged lightly. "I don't concern myself with the actions of local riffraff. It's the big fish that haul in the most energon."

_Interesting answer_, Thunderscream thought, but he let it go. "Sea Wolf's an old late model Sharkticon who came to Hylion Prime before I was constructed. How he got to the planet is a matter of debate, but once he was set loose, he put together a gang and started wrecking havoc on the sea-lanes. He attacked shipping, raided the smaller undersea colonies and just generally driving the local authorities crazy. From what I've heard, his personality's that of a glory hound, stirring up trouble just to hear his name in the holonews."

"Between my own agents and the Hylion security contingents, we've managed to capture most of his crew," Xedrethor said. "But five members, including Sea Wolf himself, keep giving us the slip. We can't even plant an informant into his organization and we've seen no evidence that he's recruiting new members."

"And if I were Sea Wolf, I wouldn't," Archanubis said, thinking. "He'd know that the authorities would see such an effort as an opportunity to infiltrate the gang. I'd also break up the gang and go underground for a few stellar cycles, but given the description Thunderscream provided, it's not likely that he'll do so."

"I guarantee you he's still very active," Xedrethor said. "And we have the shot up hulls of hovercrafts and hydrofoils to prove it."

"He's operating with a small group, so he has the advantage of surprise and speed," Archanubis observed. "But sooner or later, his luck will run out."

"I prefer it be 'sooner,'" Xedrethor said.

"As do I," Thunderscream said. "The longer Sea Wolf remains free, the more damage he's likely to cause Very well, Xedrethor, I'll send a small expeditionary team to Hylion Prime to assist in the capture of this renegade. Contact the governor and ask him to assign a couple of officers to assist my troops; as they'll be more familiar with the situation."

"You're not going yourself?" Xedrethor asked.

"Do I look like I'm going _anywhere_ in next few mega-cycles?"

"My apologies," Xedrethor said with a slight bow. "I'll contact the governor and tell him you're sending a team over." Thunderscream said nothing, but Xedrethor wasn't expecting an answer. Turning on his heal, he marched out of the center. Methusalen stepped forward, facing the general.

"Sir, do you believe it is wise to pledge the Security Director the support of the military? Most of our naval forces are assigned in other sectors light years away from here. It would take half a deca-cycle for the closest units to reach this system."

"I'm well aware of the logistics, Lieutenant," Thunderscream said. "So we'll have to make do with what we have. Archanubis, you have the most experience in this sort of work. Gather your team and make preparations to depart for Hylion Prime."

Archanubis hesitated for a moment, long enough for Thunderscream to notice. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"Unfortunately, yes, sir," Archanubis replied. "Northclaw and his team have yet to return from Zi, and recalling Irikar and Lohikaarme from their current assignment would take too long. All I have are Wingshadow, Novacula, and Darkwylde."

"Then they'll have to do," Thunderscream said. "Methusalen, how's your Hellfyre team?"

"We're worse off than the Eisen Dragoons. Most of my team hasn't fully recovered from our last mission, and Necromanix's with Northclaw. My only other active units are Dark Warpath and Buzzbeak."

"Well, between Archanubis remnants, Buzzbeak, Dark Warpath and yourself, and the two police contacts the governor will hopefully provide, that's eight units, so that should be enough to handle Sea Wolf and his gang. Get in touch with Steeleye and see if you can recruit one of his units; perhaps an engineer. You'll need one where you're going."

"Yes sir," the two replied.

"Archanubis, you're in charge of this mission; Methusalen, you'll be his second. Have your team ready to leave by the time the next transport to Hylion Prime is scheduled to depart."

"We will be ready, sir," Archanubis said.

"Report to me the nanoclick you leave; I'll inform the old rust bucket that you're on your way. Dismissed."

Archanubis and Methusalen saluted before they turn to leave.

* * *

"He's must have a system's error in his hard drive to give us that order!"

Archanubis and Methusalen walked down the corridor leading away from the maintenance center, followed closely by Dark Warpath and Wingshadow. Methusalen was doing most of the talking while Archanubis stared straight ahead, listening silently, hands folded behind his back.

"What does Thunderscream think we are? Deep-sea submarines? We don't have anyone in either of our units who can operate effectively in an undersea environment."

"You said it yourself, it would take too long to call in our naval units," Archanubis said calmly. "Sea Wolf will have the advantage even if that wasn't the case; he knows the oceans and sea lanes better than any outsider. He'll know where to hide."

"And where does that leave us?" Methusalen demanded. "Warpath and I are surface units at best while Buzzbeak and your group are all aerial specialist. And from what I've heard, the atmosphere of that planet isn't really all that friendly to either."

Wingshadow laughed, saying, "For the love of Primus, Methusalen, stop worrying. I for one can out-fly anything the skies can dish out."

Methusalen sighed in exasperation and glanced at Archanubis. Archanubis said nothing, but shared his cohort's feelings. Wingshadow had apparently forgotten his experiences on Cybertron, at least his negative ones, which wasn't unusual. But one of these days, the young jet's cockiness would get the better of him, and Archanubis wasn't sure that he wanted to be there when it did.

"There is one certainty," Dark Warpath said. "Wingshadow's not the only one who'll be looking forward to this mission."

"Yes," Archanubis mused aloud. "Novacula's certain to see this as a challenge. We should follow his example, stop complaining and carry out our orders."

"And just how do we stop a Sharkticon who operates on an ocean planet?" Methusalen inquired, glaring at him.

"Improvise."

"How, exactly?"

"We'll figure it out when we get there," Archanubis answered, his tone measured. "Wingshadow, find Novacula and your brother and tell them to meet us at the nearest spaceport. Methusalen, Dark Warpath, find Buzzbeak and tell him the same thing. I'll find Steeleye and ask him if we may 'borrow' Chiron. Thunderscream was right about one thing, we'll need an mechanic to ensure that we leave Hylion Prime in one piece."

"On it, Lieutenant," Wingshadow said just before he ran off. Methusalen just nodded before he and Dark Warpath walked away. Archanubis turned and headed off to complete his own task.

_

* * *

The Zi System_

The _Fractyl_ came out of transwarp over a bright blue, tan, and white planet that had a pair of moons. Baal had notified Northclaw and his team commanders once the ship was in range and they all stood around the bridge staring at the planet on the viewscreen.

"My friends," Northclaw said. "Welcome to the planet Zi."

Sting Claw studied the image for a moment. "Still looks like Earth."

"We might be able to break that view yet," Northclaw said. He turned and nodded to Baal, who then turned towards the bridge crew.

"Begin procedures for sub-atmospheric orbit," the yellow jet ordered. "Set altitude for twenty-one myriameters and engage stealth shielding. I don't want anyone on the planet or in the immediate vicinity to detect our presence."

Northclaw listened for a moment before turning to Stratosphera and Nightjack. "We'll wait until we're directly over the geographic North Pole before we drop your teams off, as Stratosphera suggested. Once that happens, you're on your own; I don't want any communication transmissions between you and the ground teams until your jobs are complete, unless you encounter an emergency."

"Understood," Stratosphera said with a sharp nod. Nightjack nodded silently.

"Once the aerial teams are clear, we'll proceed on to the landing zone," Northclaw said to the others. "I'll assign the surface teams their sectors once we land."

"We're in no hurry," Shinobi said. "It'll take the aerial teams a little over half a deca-cycle to complete their scans."

Northclaw only nodded as he watched the clouds of Zi grow larger as the _Fractyl_ began its decent into the atmosphere.


	14. Hylion Prime

_So this is Hylion Prime_. Staring down from an observation window of a station in orbit high above the planet, Archanubis studied the world with the practiced optic of a bounty hunter. It was old habit of his, one that was well suited for his former profession – as well as his current one.

The atmosphere was a swirling soup of utter chaos, almost completely covered by a mass of dark, ominous looking clouds that obscured the planet's surface. He could see flashes of light dancing in the clouds, caused by the discharge of static electricity somewhere within them. The storms here were typhoons of enormous strength, all exceeding the parameters of a category five storm, and he could see larger hurricanes swallowing up their smaller cousins like ravenous predators. The forces involved in these collisions had to be incredible.

The whole scene gave him the impression of staring into the very maw of Unicron. It was a reminder that no matter how powerful a Decepticon thought he was; nature could do worse.

This_ is where Thunderscream was constructed? No wonder he was considered such a loose cannon early in his career._

It had taken Archanubis and Methusalen all of a mega-cycle to gather their team and reach the nearest spaceport. Once there, they had booked the next available flight to Hylion Prime, contacted Thunderscream when they departed, and arrived at the station earlier than planned. Now he was waiting for the police contacts to arrive so that the team could proceed with their mission.

He wasn't waiting alone. Methusalen was also there, standing a few meters away at a railing, watching the crowd in the promenade below. Perched on his shoulders was a primarily black robotic condor with bits of red, yellow, and silver scattered about on his superstructure. It was Methusalen's reconnaissance specialist, Buzzbeak, a nervous little unit built from spare parts left over from the old Autobot-Decepticon war. Standing closer to Archanubis was a tall, slim, primarily ebony colored Decepticon, leaning up against a pylon, a grim look on his face. It was Wingshadow's younger spark brother, Darkwylde, on his first mission with the Dragoons. Wingshadow, Novacula, Chiron, and Dark Warpath had arrived with them, but had gone off to take in the amenities that were available. Only one of them had been to the planet before, so Archanubis had allowed them to wander off – he and Methusalen could handle the initial phase.

"They're late," Darkwylde said grimly, a tone that Archanubis was beginning to accept as the only one the mech was able to speak in.

"We were early, Corporal," Methusalen said, rubbing Buzzbeak's head. "We should give them some flexibility in this matter."

"It does not matter if we were early," Darkwylde grimaced, glaring at Methusalen through a crimson visor. "It is a soldier's duty to be prepared for any situation."

"We are not talking about soldiers here," Archanubis said, glancing at his subordinate. "These are not even members of the local militia, for Pit's sake. Darkblades and Shadowblade are civilian officers. We cannot expect them to work with the efficiency of a professional platoon."

"How unfortunate," Darkwylde stated. Archanubis just shook his head; it was no use arguing with this dour character. He knew Darkwylde had a reputation for being a bit of a stickler for… just about everything. It was just one of the reasons why so few commanders were willing to work with him – including Archanubis. Unfortunately, he hadn't been given a choice.

"Primus," Methusalen scowled. "Who put a rusty nut in your energon?"

Darkwylde didn't say a word, but continued glowering off into space. Archanubis turned away from the observation window and walked over so that he was standing next to the sub-commander.

"Once we've finished our conference with our attachés, I want to come up with some strategy to catch our quarry."

"We still need to find him before we can consider catching him," Methusalen said.

"We'll never find him in that smelter," Archanubis said. "It would be in our best interests if he found _us_."

"Sea Wolf's gotta be smarter than that."

"Let us hope he is not." Archanubis fell silent as he saw a pair Decepticons approaching them. _They must be our contacts_, he thought, but he said nothing, would let them introduce themselves. He watched silently as one of them, a black and crimson figure, approached.

"Lieutenant Archanubis?" the Decepticon inquired of the black and gold jet.

"I am he," Archanubis replied.

"Greetings," the Decepticon said, bowing slightly. "Welcome to Hylion Prime. I am Shadowblade. The fellow behind me is Darkblades." The gray and dark blue figure behind him nodded silently. "We are the police attachés you requested."

"Thank you, Shadowblade," Archanubis nodded. Indicating his subject with an outstretched hand, he said, "This is my sub-commander for this mission, Methusalen. The bird on his shoulder is Buzzbeak, and this dour looking character is Darkwylde."

"A pleasure," Methusalen said with a slight nod. Buzzbeak nodded as well, while Darkwylde simply glowered. Archanubis grimaced slightly; he'd have a word with him about proper etiquette after this assignment was complete.

Turning his attention back to their task, Archanubis said, "I suppose you know why we're here."

Shadowblade nodded. "You're to assist us in locating and capturing the pirate known as Sea Wolf and his gang. But before we begin, may I suggest we move to a slightly more private setting? Sea Wolf has a few friends and there are no doubt a few of them watching us now."

"He probably already knows we're here," Methusalen said. "Once we start making our plans, we'll move somewhere out of range of unfriendly audio receptors. In the meantime, what can you tell us about the situation thus far?"

Darkblades spoke up. "Essentially it's this; ever since the Destron Empire annexed Hylion Prime, we've been involved in doing whatever we can to clean the place up. It hasn't been easy, but we've managed to capture most of the more notorious characters who plagued this world."

"Your story pretty much matches with most of the systems in the Empire," Archanubis said. "Including Destron herself."

"I doubt most systems have had to deal with winds that exceed sixteen hundred kilometers per megacycle or waves several hundred meters high," Shadowblade stated. "However, as Darkblades pointed out, we've done well for ourselves. However, the one last bastion of the old raiders has been giving us the slip for stellar cycles and every time he does, his reputation grows."

"Some of the inhabitants have begun seeing him as some sort of local hero," Darkblades added grimly. "By the Pit, you can't even go anywhere in the system without running into some merchant selling something with something pertaining to the Sharkticon. You might have noticed simply looking at some of the shops around here."

Archanubis had noticed that. "I understand that you've been having trouble locating his hideout."

"Impossible is a better statement," Darkblades said. "From what we can tell, he has several hideouts scattered around the bottom of the deepest parts of the ocean and he switches between them every few solar cycles. Adding to our difficulties is the fact that we have no deep-sea units in our entire force. I don't suppose you brought any with you."

Archanubis shook his head lightly. "It would have taken too long to recall the closest units."

"Unfortunate," Darkblades frowned. "It would make our task all the easier."

"Perhaps if you worked a little harder," Darkwylde said, "you would have better success."

Pointing to the view port, Shadowblade said, "Have you _seen_ the weather down there, soldier? Clear days are few and far between, and the storms change course and intensity by the nanoclick. A _good _day usually consists of a category three hypercane, and even those are rare. That's why most of the colonies are either up here in orbit or below the surface in undersea structures."

"I gather that operating under the cloud cover and above the water's surface would be a dangerous venture," Methusalen said, glancing out the window.

"Flying _over_ the cloud cover is a dangerous venture," Darkblades said. "The atmosphere is so highly charged and any vehicle flying through the atmosphere becomes an instant lightning rod. The electrical discharges down there are so strong that it wouldn't matter if you were covered in electrum; take a direct hit and your systems are toast."

"What would a near miss do?" Archanubis inquired.

"It'll throw your instruments for a loop," Darkblades replied. "We've lost units when their instruments went wild and they didn't realize that they were flying upside-down until it was too late."

Darkwylde huffed, "Thunderscream's sent us on a suicide mission. Finding Sea Wolf in that slag is an impossible venture."

"Nothing is impossible," Archanubis said. Turning to their contacts, he inquired, "Have you attempted to lure Sea Wolf into a trap of some kind?"

"Several times," Shadowblade said. "Either he avoids us entirely or finds a way to slip through. He's slippery than a greased eel."

Methusalen glanced at Archanubis with a smug expression. Archanubis ignored it as he inquired, "Where exactly have you been trying to catch him?"

"We've tried to draw him into the center of one of the undersea colonies or the heart of merchant submarines," Shadowblade replied.

"Underwater, where Sea Wolf has the advantage. Have you tried luring him to the surface?"

"No one with half a processor would be crazy enough to operate on the surface," Darkblades said, horrified. "The weather's not the only hazard; you fall into the water and the waves will tear you apart like you were made out of cardboard. Provided, of course, that the predatory cephalopods and crustaceans native to those waters don't crush your superstructure like you're an oil can."

"Has Sea Wolf attacked surface targets?" Archanubis inquired.

"Frequently," Shadowblade said.

"Then a surface operation is our only viable option," Archanubis stated. Turning, he asked, "Wouldn't you agree, Lieutenant?"

"Given our choices," Methusalen replied, "I concur. Besides, it's not likely we could lure him into space."

"Not for a lack of trying," Darkblades said.

"And how, oh great commander, do you propose that we deal with our most obvious enemy?" Darkwylde inquired snidely.

As if responding to some unspoken cue, Chiron appeared, holding a cup of energon in his hand, sipping it through a straw. "Heya, everyone," he said rather jovially and smiling. "I see we've found our contacts with the local authorities..

Although he had been assigned to the team for this mission, Chiron was officially part of Steeleye's Steel Talons, though he made no secret that he hadn't joined of his own free will. A dark blue and black Decepticon who transformed into a construction crane, he vaguely reminded Archanubis of Scavendrill, though Chiron was considerably larger than the Dragoon's repair mech. If he didn't know better, he'd swear the mech was enjoying his time away from the Steel Talons.

"Chiron," Archanubis said, clearing his thoughts. "Are you familiar with the natural hazards common to Hylion Prime?"

"Intimately," Chiron said. "I was assigned to an undersea drilling operation a few stellar cycles ago. This place isn't exactly foreign territory for me – though this station is new."

Glancing to Darkblades, Archanubis asked, "How's the satellite network over the planet?"

"Practically non-existent," Darkblades replied. "The legislation that was supposed to deal with that problem is still stuck in some committee in the Destron Senate."

Archanubis growled. _Slag all politicians! Those spawns of Unicron have to spend their time arguing over the pettiest detail instead of acting decisively._ He turned back to Chiron and asked, "You think you can reinforce our superstructures to better withstand the stresses we'll encounter on the surface?"

"Tricky, but doable," Chiron said. Waving a hand at Darkwylde, he added, "It'll take less time to modify Darkwylde and Wingshadow, since their alternate forms were built to operate in adverse conditions, though I doubt the designers had _these_ kind of conditions in mind."

Turning to Darkwylde, Archanubis ordered, "Find Novacula and tell him to report to the maintenance bay immediately."

"What for?" Darkwylde demanded softly.

Archanubis glared at him. "I don't repeat my orders, Corporal. You can either follow them or I can have you reassigned to the Zykin Belt drilling dilithium crystals with your bare hands."

Darkwylde said nothing, but quietly, if glumly, stood up straight, turned, and walked away. Archanubis turned back to Chiron and said, "I want you to start working on the modifications immediately, giving priority to Buzzbeak and Novacula. We're going to need them to scout ahead for a suitable location to set up our operations."

Glancing at the mechanical buzzard on Methusalen's shoulder, Chiron said, "Considering Buzzbeak's construction, that's going to require some extensive work."

"Then you'd better get cracking," Archanubis said, unmoved.

Chiron nodded silently and walked over to Methusalen. "Excuse me, Lieutenant," he said, holding out his arm for Buzzbeak to perch on. The robotic bird understood the silent request and hopped off Methusalen onto Chiron. "I'll contact the rest of you when I'm ready," Chiron said before he turned and left.

"So what do _we_ do in the meantime?" Methusalen inquired.

"You and I will gather the rest of the team," Archanubis replied. Turning to Darkblades and Shadowblade, he inquired, "How long are you two available as our attachés?"

"The governor has stated that the local authorities are the disposal of the military for the duration of your assignment," Shadowblade said.

"Convenient," Methusalen said, thinking, _Why do they call it "disposal?"_

"Gather the best, most capable, most trustworthy officers you know," Archanubis said. "Just a few; a large party may tip our intentions to Sea Wolf. I don't want him to suspect anything's amiss until it's too late."


	15. Tower in the Oasis

_Planet Zi_

The _Fractyl_ landed in a small valley located in the shadow of a large, forest covered, fog shrouded mountain. Once the ship was secured, was the first to disembark. He stood for a moment, taking in the sight of the terrain around them.

_Doesn't look like much has changed since I left_, he thought. _This place is still as green as I remember it. Quite a contrast compared to the rest of Europa._

"Beautiful country around here," Scavendrill said, walking up beside Northclaw. "Not quite what you described to us on the way here."

"There are patches of vegetation like these around the continent," Northclaw explained. "Places where the ancient war did not reach. Trust me; this illusion will dissipate once we clear the mountains."

"Where are we, anyway?" Shinobi inquired, looking up at the mountain.

Pointing to the mountain, Northclaw replied, "Mount Iselena. This valley doesn't get many visitors; the fog blankets the area year round and the shadows play a lot of tricks on folks' minds. There used to be rumors of a monster that lurked in the area, but there's never been any proof of its existence."

"Well, then," Shinobi said. "I can see why you picked these coordinates as our landing zone."

"I do my best." Northclaw turned to look back towards the mountain, thinking for a moment. "The _Fractyl_ will act as our base of operations; it'll be like the axle in a wheel. Sting Claw, Shinobi, you two will head to the northwest, and start your search there. Necromanix, Scavendrill, and I will head south; towards the Elemia Desert; there are some facilities there that could prove promising. It's also where the Zoid Battle Commission holds competitions…"

"Nightjack to Northclaw. Come in Northclaw!"

Northclaw looked up, an old reflex. _He'd better have a good reason for breaking radio silence_. "Northclaw here."

"Sorry to disobey your orders, sir, but I've just detected an object heading in your direction. Something big and fast."

Sting Claw whirled, looking around, slightly panicked. Northclaw remained calm. "Course and speed?"

"Bearing Z mark zero-five-two. Speed; about six hundred kilometers per mega-cycle."

"Six hundred kilometers?" Scavendrill turned to Northclaw, mouth slightly agape. "That's almost twice your own top speed."

Northclaw nodded, thinking, _It'll be here soon, probably already within sensor range. A perfect opportunity for a little test._ "Thank you, Nightjack. Return to your duties and maintain radio silence."

"Affirmative. See y'all in half a deca-cycle."

Sting Claw was watching Northclaw nervously. "Sir, maybe we should re-board and cloak the ship. Whatever's coming is going to be here in mere nano-clicks."

"Too late for that now," Northclaw said. "If that thing has sensors, we've already been detected – unless, of course, that Scavendrill and Necromanix's little toy is working the way it should."

"We'll know in a cycle, won't we?" Necromanix said, looking off into the distance. Northclaw also looked in that direction and saw a cloud of dust in the distance, as well as a dark shape within. He zoomed in with his visual sensors to get a better look.

He immediately recognized it as a Zoid, a Liger-type by its appearance, but it bore little resemblance to the Liger models he was familiar with. This thing had considerably more armor than most of the Ligers he had fought back in the day. It bore two massive weapon systems, one on each elbow, and had a horn jutting out from the middle of its head, like some mechanized unicorn. Yet there was something familiar about this Zoid.

Shinobi had apparently seen it as well, for he asked, "Should we intercept – whatever that cat-bot is?"

"Doesn't appear that will be necessary," Necromanix said. "The Zoid's on a course that'll take it to within another four hundred meters of our location, but it'll still passes us by. No sign of slowing; looks like the chronoton displacement field's doing its job."

"Good," Northclaw said. "That means we'll be able to work without interference."

"In any event, it's our first Zoid encounter," Scavendrill said. "I'll take a scan and store the data." Northclaw only nodded, still trying to remember where he'd seen this thing before.

_I remember seeing a blueprint before I left… The name's right on the edge of my speakers…_

"Any idea what this thing's called?" Necromanix asked.

That's when Northclaw remembered and snapped his fingers. "Energy Liger."

The others turned to look at him, curious, except Scavendrill, who was still taking his scans. "Energy Liger?" Necromanix echoed.

"It's a new Zoid that was on the drawing boards when I left. Looks like they got around to constructing it."

"Abilities?"

Northclaw shrugged. "Don't really know. Like I said, it was still in the design phase when I left."

"We'll have plenty of time to study that later," Scavendrill said, his scans complete. Turning, he said, "For now, I suggest we get moving if we want to find that charged particle system."

"Agreed," Northclaw said as he transformed. "Move out, Decepticons! We have equipment to find and not a lot of time to do it in!"

* * *

It took a couple days of near non-stop travel, but Northclaw's team finally reached the Elemia Desert. Most of their brief stops had been largely to scan any Zoid they had encountered, but even when they had arrived at their destination, Northclaw plowed on without pause and without explanation. Necromanix and Scavendrill followed him, even though they were exhausted, overheated, and starting to lag behind.

Necromanix managed to accelerate enough to pull alongside Scavendrill so he could talk to him without Northclaw overhearing. "For the love of Primus, he's been running us ragged for the past fifty mega-cycles with barely a break. I know our time here is limited, but are we in that much of a hurry?"

"Right now, I'm just praying that he knows what he's doing," Scavendrill said.

"What'd you mean by that?" Necromanix inquired, horrified. "I thought you were a member of his team!"

"First off, as far as the Dragoons are concerned, I'm a part timer," Scavendrill said. "Second, this is my first mission with him. I'm not exactly familiar with his command style."

"But you've worked with him before."

"More like worked _on_ him. So have you. You know as well as I do that mechanics is not a door into a unit's psyche"

"Still, you think he'd allow us a break in order to cool our axles. And I don't mean just to scan some new vehicle we come across."

"Hey, if you're having a problem, tell _him_, not me."

Necromanix took that into consideration and found the energy to accelerate again, just enough to get within earshot of Northclaw. "Hey, fossil breath! Not all of us have jets and an ability to skim over the ground. How about a rest?"

Northclaw didn't even glance at him. "Can you hold out another few breem?"

"Define 'a' few breem," Necromanix said bitterly.

Northclaw was unsympathetic. "Just pace yourself and keep going. We're almost there."

Necromanix emitted an angry burst of static, but grudgingly obeyed. He comforted himself with the thought that if his drive train broke down in the next few cycles, he'd at least get his break.

The trio was heading for a low ridge of sand a few meters away, one of many they had crossed on their journey. Northclaw moved on ahead, increasing power to his thrusters and speeding away from his comrades. Necromanix did not follow suite – he wasn't about to overtax his systems more than they had been already. The dinocon could go on ahead if he wanted to – if he lost his teammates, well, it was his own fragging fault. A quick scan revealed that Scavendrill hadn't increased his speed either. _At least I'm not the only one who thinks this fool's processor has overheated._

"Hey Necromanix!" Scavendrill shouted. "Shift your scanners to the southwest. I think we have another Zoid approaching."

Necromanix followed his instructions. "Another Gustav. Those ugly little things are extremely popular around here, aren't they?"

"So are those Command Wolves that thing's lugging. I swear, those things are about as common as the Starscream wannabes back home."

"Won't argue with you there," Necromanix chuckled as he turned his attention to if Northclaw had lost them or not. To his surprise, he saw him standing on the crest of the dune, staring into the distance, away from the others. Curiosity getting the better of him, Necromanix pushed himself to keep moving. Once he had pulled up alongside, he transformed and studied the dinocon a moment. Northclaw didn't acknowledge his presence, nor did he seem to notice when Scavendrill drove up and transformed. The two repairs glanced at each other briefly, at a loss for their commander's reasons for halting.

"Something up, boss?" Scavendrill inquired finally.

Northclaw gave him a quick glance before answering, "We're here."

Stymied by his cryptic remark, the repairers looked at each other with perplexed expressions. "Well it's obvious we're _somewhere_," Necromanix said. "But as to our exact location…"

Northclaw pointed ahead of them. "This is our destination."

Necromanix and Scavendrill turned towards where he indicated and finally saw what he was talking about. Ahead of them was a line of trees, an odd sight in the desert, but they had come across a few oases in their trek. An oasis meant there that a water source was nearby, and the possibility of rest. Neither mechanic got their hopes up; Northclaw had passed up several such opportunities before.

But it wasn't so much the oasis that held their attention as what was in it. Right smack dab in the center of the sanctuary was a huge tower, several stories high, probably three quarters of the height of Earth's Empire State Building from ground to rooftop. Judging from the reflections of the sun on the tower, the outer surface appeared to be covered in glass. On the top of the skyscraper was a large, fan-like decoration, a little over twice as wide as the tower itself. Scavendrill scanned for any sign of a settlement in the immediate area, but detected no evidence of any.

_Strange_, he thought. _Seems odd to put a skyscraper right in the middle nowhere, without a hint of civilization. What did Northclaw bring us to?_

Whatever it was, further scans soon revealed that it had not seen visitors of any kind for quite some time. The tower was in a sad state of disrepair; the windows on the lower floors were broken, the huge fan punctured with holes, and steel beams covered with rust. There were signs that nature was reclaiming the land, from plants growing up through what was left of the walkway to animal tracks leading to and from the ground floor windows and doors.

"What a dump," Necromanix exclaimed. "What is this place, anyway?"

"Used to be a testing and training facility for an organization called the 'Backdraft Group,'" Northclaw explained. "The place's been abandoned for years, even before my arrival."

"So what are we doing here?" Scavendrill inquired.

"Rumor has it that the Backdraft were heavily into high-tech weaponry and unusual Zoids, before they went 'belly up,'" Northclaw explained. "I used to scavenge spare parts from their old warehouses and complexes – those that were still standing, of course. If we're going to find any shred of information on my weaponry, this is the place we're most likely to find it."

"Maybe," Scavendrill said. "It's quite likely that you weren't the only scavenger to take advantage of an abandoned building like this."

"Very true," Northclaw said, scanning the oasis around the tower. "There's a ground well about fifty meters from the tower. We'll establish our base camp there. We'll take the next twelve to twenty-four mega-cycles to rest and replenish before we start our search."

"Thank Primus for small favors," Necromanix said, raising his arms into the air. Northclaw ignored him and engaged his thrusters again, sailing over the dunes towards the oasis. Necromanix and Scavendrill transformed and followed, the promise of a first real break in solar cycles overriding their exhaustion.


End file.
